Professor Longbottom and the Year of Unexpected Romances
by Clever-Lady
Summary: All Neville wanted to do was make it through the school year without incident; and if fate would allow, marry Hannah Abbott. But it would seem fate has other plans. Slughorn has a Stroke, MacMillan ruins his life, and Parkinson begins teaching at Hogwarts. Neville had given up being an auror for a more quiet life. This year promises to be anything but.
1. In Which Neville has Anxiety

Part I: When Things Went Well.

* * *

Chapter 1:

In Which Neville has Anxiety.

* * *

It was Neville's third year teaching at Hogwarts. His first year as Gryffindor Head of House. Despite his experience Neville was nervous as ever to begin the next year of school. Was it surprising? Not really.

Neville accepted the position as Herbology professor after four years of working as an auror. He would have thought that would iron out his nerves. And it did in a sense. The auror training program not only refined the senses that were already sharp from his year leading the DA, but it forced him to remain calm and clear headed in the midst of stressful situations. But after returning to Hogwarts it became abundantly clear that Neville had a two very defined sides. The intense confident leader, and the clumsy forgetful professor. Some things just couldn't change.

Neville splashed water in his face and took a look in the mirror. He looked the same as always. Round face supported by what he had once heard Ginny call a "dad bod". It was wishful thinking to hope that his years as an auror would harden his body as well. He gained muscle. There was no way to work out regularly for four years and not have strength. But Neville had a stubborn body type. He accepted a few years back that this is just who he was, but it wasn't until a conversation with Ginny Weasley that he came to truly appreciate who he _is._

" _Damn you, Neville!"_ Ginny had yelled at him after he had let out one too many self depreciating jokes. " _How do you still not see who you are?"_ Her tone had changed to a more gentle reproach. " _You have touched each one of us. You have encouraged every one of us in our times of need. You lead us when we needed someone. You… You were there. You were there when…. Well damn you Neville! You were the one that noticed something was wrong in my fourth year! You were the encouragement and reason I stopped cutting. Without your tough love and patient encouragement I don't know what could have happened."_

Harry had pulled her closer at her mention of fourth year.

" _She's right you know."_ Harry added. " _You notice small things that others don't. Fifth year Ron, Mione and I were so busy running around we failed to notice the struggles Ginny was going through."_ Harry leaned down and kissed Ginny's head, pulling her even closer. " _But you did."_

" _I third the notion, mate."_ Ron piped in. " _Back in training when I couldn't get the drills straight you stuck right with me till I did. Don't think I didn't know you were only pretending to struggle to help me through."_

He was right, Neville had to admit. The drills weren't that hard for him, but he knew the wound Ron's ego would take if he beat him dead. So he slowed down and walked Ron through them as though he was learning them himself.

On and on it went, Hermione took a go, Seamus gave his two cents, Dean listed off every time Neville had influenced his life for the better, and even Draco-who had taken to slyly tagging along on their outings after their auror shifts-assured Neville that he wasn't incompetent.

One conversation alone wasn't quite enough to change his outlook. But his friendship with Hannah Abbot encouraged the change all the more. He had liked her since third year. She helped him in herbology and they became partners. They had lost touch in sixth year, but rekindled their friendship when Neville ran into her one day at the Leaky Cauldron. She was a girl who genuinely liked Neville for who he was. The only problem was that Neville was convinced that she didn't like him the way he would want her to.

Looking at his face in the mirror Neville verbally reminded himself that he had successfully taught two years worth of Herbology. That if McGonagall didn't believe he would be successful she wouldn't have put him in charge. That all of his students last year received passing grades, even the worst of them scraped on by. He could do this. He could be a Professor. He could be head of house.

* * *

A few weeks into the school year Neville sat at his workbench working on his pet project. The year had been going well. He was actually quite on top of things this year, better than he had expected. He had so much free time that he began working on his research projects. The one he was most enthusiastic about, and working on at the moment, was inventing a new flower.

It would be for Hannah. It would always be for Hannah. She had been his motivation for the last few years. He prayed as he carefully painted the pearl dust over the mint rose hybrid seed he had created that _this_ one would produce a full bloom. He had tried dozens of variations, all producing a beautiful plant with a sweet minty scent, however each plant lacked the full rose bloom that Neville was searching so desperately for. _This_ one would be different. Surely this one with it's so carefully balanced rose thorn and mint extract combination. Neville had decided that it was no longer the seed that was imbalanced, but the pot it was planted in. He tried different soils and fertilizer mixes. This time he decided that planting the seed on a full moon on a moonstone covered in fresh soil mixed with pearl dust would surely derive the most magical bloom he could imagine. At least, that was his hope.

Neville's thoughts were interrupted just as he was placing his planted seed in full view of the moon by a fourth year bursting into the greenhouse.

"Professor Longbottom, sir!" The boy screeched trying to catch his breath as he had seemed to run all the way from the castle. "Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office right away! There has been an accident!"

Neville went right into auror mode, all of his senses heightened. He grabbed his sweater off of it's hook not noticing the full bottle of Essence of Dittany he knocked into his precious potential plant.

"What is it? Who it it? Tell me all you know!" Neville sped out the door of the greenhouse and jogged up to the castle his young student close behind.

"It's Professor Slughorn sir!" the young hufflepuff gasped between breaths. "He's had an accident in the middle of his class. He has been in the infirmary all day and has been insisting to his students that he will never recover entirely!"

Neville took in this information just as they reached the great hall. He dismissed the student and tried to slow his heart rate the rest of the walk to the headmistresses office. He would be no good to McGonagall breathless and dishevelled.

By the time he reached her office he was as put together as he ever would be. He noticed just as it was too late that his hands were still covered in dirt meaning that his forehead was likely also littered with soil.

"Longbottom, I'm so thrilled you could join us." McGonagall had a talent for speaking kind words in the sharpest ways imaginable. Neville had to remind himself that he was her peer and not her student.

"Sorry for my delay, I believe young Bones was distracted on his task to fetch me."

"No matter, take a seat." McGonagall waved to an open seat near her desk which Neville sat in.

As he looked around he noticed that most of the other professors were also gathered in the room, including Ernie MacMillan. Ernie taught DADA and was Hufflepuff Head of House as well. Neville noticed a slight sneer on his face as he scanned the room. He tried his best to get along with Ernie. But Ernie had an aura around him that seethed with a superiority complex that was hard to get past. As polite as Neville was, Ernie seemed to always have a way to remind Neville that he was an idiot.

"As many of you have heard," Minerva's words interrupting Nevile's thoughts, "Horace has had a stroke. He is resting currently in the infirmary and will soon be transferred to St. Mungos. He is physically well, but only further testing will determine how much damage has been done to his mind. He has taken to repeating words and sentences in a fretful manner that scared many of the other's in the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey has had to place a silencing spell over his cot."

"What will we do about Potions, Minerva?" Flitwick broke in.

"I was getting to that. Don't interrupt me Filius. Horace was already planning to retire at the end of this school year and we had already lined up his replacement. I have owled to see if they would be willing to temporarily step into the role immediately while we asses the extent of Horace's condition."

At this Ernie MacMillan spoke up, "Who will that be, Professor?"

"I believe you know her, she was in yours and Longbottom's year."

At these words the hair on the back of Neville's neck stood on end as chills ran up and down his spine.

"Pansy Parkinson."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hey ya'll. Truth be told I haven't written in years. So this is stretching some stale muscles, bear with me! That being said, please review my work. Let me know what needs improving. Reviews encourage me to keep it up, thank you all!**


	2. In Which Neville Discusses Potions

Chapter 2:

In Which Neville Discusses Potions.

"Commander, I how would you like us to coordinate patrols this week?"

Neville sat at his desk and took notes as he listened to the Gryffindor prefects go through their weekly meeting. Perhaps the most uncomfortable part of accepting this teaching position was becoming the professor to many students he had attended Hogwarts with himself. When he first started all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years that had been part of the DA while Neville was in his seventh insisted on calling him "commander" instead of "professor". Truth be told, he didn't particularly mind. But he was a bit relieved that this would be the last year that he taught students that were at one time his peers. Neville wondered how Ernie.. Or even Pansy for that matter felt about it.

"I don't see a problem with how you have been handling it, Miss Stimpson. I suggest continuing in your current pattern."

A sense of irony washed over him as Neville watched the six prefects fulfill their duties. Neville had never been a prefect himself, yet here he was, head of the whole of Gryffindor house. It still baffled him.

"Yes sir! Also, I was wondering about… um. Well, some of the other seventh years and I had been talking and we're a bit concerned…"

"Go on, Stimpson." Mandy Stimpson didn't tend to beat around the bush, so whatever she had to say struck Neville as serious.

"Well, sir. The recent change in teaching staff has made several of the seventh years... _uncomfortable_. We know it was a long time ago… And we even had to repeat the school year. But… well. We remember attending school with Pansy. She may not have been a full death eater. And she may have avoiding cruciating us first years at the time. But we remember what she did to you. We remember the torture that she put you through specifically. We remember the fear of her we had in our hearts. And we remember the night of the battle. She tried to sell out Harry Potter! I full heartedly believe in second chances, but my gut is telling me… and several others as well! … That Pansy can't be trusted. We know we can't get rid of her. But we want to know if there is something we _can_ do."

Neville sat silently as he listened to Mandy's concerns. Memories flooded his mind as she spoke. Pansy Parkinson. The devil in high heels. Merlin's beard, what was McGonagall thinking hiring that witch? It was true, he had suffered more than a handful of crucios as the hands of the pug-faced slytherin. She was a bitch to say the least. _Was._ Truth be told, Neville had no idea what had come of her over the last seven years. But the idea of the girl he had known as a fellow student now having a hand in student's education made him feel sick.

Neville swallowed. He counted to ten. He weighed his mind on the matter before he spoke as a professor to his students.

"Miss Stimpson, please refer to Professor Parkinson with the full respect she is due. She has, after all, spent many years earning her Potions Master title. And I doubt she would like to be disrespected in such a way." Neville let out a sigh before he continued, "I truly understand and appreciate your concern. It is true, Professor Parkinson made the wrong choices during the war. But many of our fellow students did as well, even some of those in Ravenclaw. Not everyone received the same support that we did for doing what was right. Headmistress McGonagall would not have even considered hiring Miss Parkinson if she did not have full faith in her character."

"Yes sir." Mandy looked into her lap, more than a little discouraged at her professor's dismissal of her concerns.

"But Miss Stimpson? You take NEWT level potions. Do you not?"

Mandy looked up curious at the question, "Yes sir. Thomas and I both do." Thomas, the other seventh year prefect leaned forward at the mention of his name.

"Good. It's not an easy subject. I was never partial to it myself." Neville twiddled his thumbs as he spoke as if this were the most casual of subjects to be discussing. He was calm. He was focused. He was in auror mode.

"I remember hearing such before, sir." Thomas spoke hesitantly not sure what his professor was getting at.

"Well, be sure to take _thorough notes_ in potions. You can never be too careful in the class. The best advice I can offer is to follow your professor's _every move_. Don't let a detail of her instruction slip your attention."

Mandy and Thomas look at each other in relief before speaking in unison.

"Yes, Commander."


	3. In Which Neville is Caught off Guard

Chapter 3:

In Which Neville is caught off guard.

* * *

"And that's the last of them." Neville had collected the last of the Hogsmeade permission slips and tucked them into an envelope to give to McGonagall.

"Are you sure you double checked them all? We don't want a repeat of last year." Ernie snorted as he too collected the last of the Hufflepuff permission slips.

"Of course. I have verified everything twice." _And I did last year too, wanker._ Neville thought the last bit to himself.

"What happened last year?" Parkinson spoke for the first time for that afternoon. Neville avoided her as much as possible and had forgotten she was even there for her silence.

Neville didn't wait as Ernie launched into an animated version of what had happened, no doubt making Neville out to be the bumbling professor. Was he wrong though? The incident last year may not have been his fault, but it would be false to say that he hadn't goofed a few (dozen) times in his position.

It didn't matter. It was a Hogsmeade weekend. Which meant that as soon as his menial chores were complete he was free to leave the premises and go to the Leaky for drinks with his friends.

* * *

"Neville!" Hannah trotted from behind the bar to give Neville a hug in greeting.

"Hey Hannah!" An involuntary smile crept onto Neville's face. "How have you been?"

Hannah hopped onto a barstool Dangling her feet in the air. It was the most adorable sight Neville had ever beheld.

"I've been keeping busy! The Leaky has been doing well. Ol' Tom have all but put me in charge of everything. Hey! Take a seat, let me get you a firewhiskey!"

"Oh, no. Please. Butterbeer is fine."

"Of course." Hannah let out a giggle remembering the last time Neville and Dean had gotten carried away with firewhiskey. "How is Hogwarts doing? Rumor is that Slughorn has retired early?"

"It hasn't been finalized. But he had a stroke earlier this week. They have in in St. Mungos and _Pansy Parkinson_ has been his replacement this last week. Thank merlin I've not had to interact much with her. I still don't know what to make of it." Neville did a quick visual sweep of the room to be sure that there were no prying ears. The last thing he needed was gossip of drama at Hogwarts.

"Pansy!? Replacing Slughorn?" Hannah Jumped off of her stool and threw her rag onto the table. "That's terrible! She was terrible to us!" Hannah continued to show her dismay by slamming a butterbeer in front of Neville.

"Woah, mate! What's you do to piss _her_ off?" Dean took the stool next to Neville and beckoned for one of his own.

"It's not him, Deanie." Neville and Dean both cringed a little at the nickname. "It's that cow of a substitute they put in for Slughorn."

"She heard about Parkinson, then?"

"I know she's not a saint, Hannah. But can she really be that bad if McGonagall would even consider hiring her? She can't be any worse than Snape." Neville cringed at his own words. He cringed again when he saw the patronizing look Hannah was giving him. He didn't want to be patronized by her. He wanted to be praised. He wanted to be backed up and supported.

"I hate to agree, but Nev's got a point, Han. I'll be the first to admit the snakes were the worst of it when we were in school. But many of them have proven themselves through fire since. Malfoy and I have been partners for a few years now, he's a right mate. And he acted much worse than Parkinson did in the war. She at least deserves a chance, albeit a closely monitored chance."

Hannah's cheeks went a pit pink at being called out. If the circumstances were different Neville would have wanted a picture of her exactly like that.

Fortunately, things loosened up the rest of the afternoon. Neville said his goodbye's around five so that he could return to the castle by the time his students were returning in case he was needed. He didn't need a repeat of last year…

Neville went straight to his personal greenhouse to check on his rose. The bush had been growing nicely but the plant was growing some "pods" that Neville had never seen before. He hoped it was a good sign.

"There you are. I've been waiting on you for a while. I was about to give up, but I was told you usually where here instead of up at your office."

Neville froze. Damn her. Damn that which. She had caught him off guard. He was not in auror mode, as he prefered to be in her presence, and … dammit. He was a deer in the freaking headlights. All he could do was stare at Pansy Parkinson.

Actually, this was the first real look at Pansy that he had gotten in years. He had avoided her since she had started at Hogwarts. She actually looked.. Modest. Neville never in his life thought he would associate the word with _Pansy Parkinson_. She wore black flats with black tights and a black skirt what went all the way to her knees. She wore some sort of black blouse mostly covered by a black long-sleeved cardigan. The only splash of color being a silver chain around her neck with an emerald green flower. Her nose was as upturned as ever, but her hair had grown out. At least, Neville had assumed such, as her hair was pulled into a bun. Was this even Pansy?

"Ahem." Neville realized he had been silent and staring for at least a full minute.

"Uh. Sorry. You caught me off guard."

"Oh. sorry. Well, I've been wanting to talk to you but there hasn't been a very good chance. I uh… Well, you remember who I was in school. I was a bitch. To be honest I don't even remember much of it. I think part of moving on has involved forgiving myself and trying to forget everything I did. It's too much for me to apologize to everybody. But I'm at Hogwarts now. And I'll be working with you. And I want us to at least be able to respect each other. I… I want to say I'm sorry for who I was. For who I was all throughout school, but also for who I was specifically in seventh year. I did a lot of things that I regret, and a lot of things I'm still trying to forget. Unfortunately you were the target of those terrible things more often than not. I know words alone don't mean much. And I certainly can't expect to you accept immediately. But, uh… I hope that you can forgive me, Longbottom."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Please leave a review. How about that Hannah, eh?**


	4. In Which Neville gets his butt kicked

Chapter 4:

In Which Neville gets his butt kicked.

* * *

 _December, 1997._

The halls had been dark and quiet. Everything had been exactly as it should have been. They must have been expected, it must have been a trap.

Neville groaned at the searing pain. He had been hit by something hard from behind and his face had hit the cold stone floor. The room felt like it was spinning around him and that was before he even opened his eyes. Once he did he regretted it.

" _Petrificus totalus!_ "

All Neville could see from the ground was a pair of chunky black heels. Neville was unaware that fishnet stockings had been added to the list of approved attire. But he wasn't exactly surprised. From somewhere behind him he heard an eerily shrill scream. It was Luna. Someone behind him was making Luna, who never raised her voice… ever, scream as though she were dying. Neville was filled with pure unadulterated hatred for whoever would harm such a pure young woman. He tried to scream. To use forbidden words against whoever would dare hurt his friend, but all he succeeded in was drooling onto the floor.

"Not so brave now, are you Longbottom?" Parkinson bent down in a way that Neville was sure she thought was appealing, but only served to fuel his anger. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look into her eyes. "Look at you. Completely helpless. Completely… at my mercy. Happy Christmas to me." She let out a humorless chuckle and dropped his head hard on the ground.

The screaming from behind him suddenly stopped and the room became eerily quiet once again. The slam to the side of his head must have been harder than he realized. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, noises sounded far away and muffled. He could hear the muted clicks of Parkinson's ugly shoes as she circled him. There were muffled words. Someone was angry. Then Neville tasted blood. That was when he realized he was being repeatedly kicked in the stomach by that cow. He involuntarily wretched bile and blood repeatedly onto the floor.

"You git! You freaking bloody bastard git! These are designer heels and you ruined them with your sick!"

Just like Pansy Parkinson to be thinking about her shoes as she's kicking someone to death. At that last thought Neville blacked out and didn't wake up until a few days later in the infirmary.

* * *

 _February, 1998_

"Happy Valentine's, Longbottom." The position was all too familiar. Neville was in a full body bind face done on the stone floor. Parkinson dug her chunky heel into his cheek drawing blood, her "Inquisitorial Squad" badge gleaming as she waited for backup.

"You would think with the amount of times I've kicked your arse you would stay down. That you would at the least be discouraged. But I'll give it to you," She repositioned to sit on his back with her legs neatly crossed in front of her. "You haven't lost steam. Somehow you've only ever ramped up your little _escapades._ "

She was right. Neville Longbottom and the DA had been caught and punished countless times over the school year. Yet somehow the punishments only encouraged and egged them on. Even as her boney bum dug into his back his mind reeled with delight at exactly how under their skin the DA had gotten. It was glorious. Neville reveled in the compliment that her heel in his cheek really was.

Honestly, though. It was incredibly validating. I mean, having a 5'4 girl in heels take you out was a hit to the pride. But Snape had a target on him. The entirety of the Death Eater Army was taking notice of him in particular. _He,_ Neville Longbottom, was making a difference. He wasn't a tag-a-long. He wasn't just the butt of jokes or someone to make fun of anymore.

"You know, you'd also think all of the trouble you've put us through this year you'd thin out some." Pansy took a pinch of his skin on either side of where she sat… being a pinch of his shoulder and a pinch of his bum. "Yeah. Definitely still the Hogwarts plush bunny."

Neville took back everything he had thought. This was humiliating.

* * *

 _March, 1998_

This was new. He hadn't been caught in this position before. No body bind. Not even a silencing charm. But he was chained upside down in the dungeons to be used as "home work" for the older students in _Dark Arts._ Fortunately a stasis charm kept his blood from running to his head, but he was dizzy as hell. He had a throbbing headache. His wounds still hadn't healed from last week's escapade. He had just gotten news that his Gran was on the run, and now this. Needless to say Neville was _not_ in a good mood.

"That's enough, Goyle" Blaise put a stop to Gregory Goyle's attempts at the crucio. They hurt like hell, but it wasn't all there. Neville was pretty sure _Goyle_ wasn't all there. "It's my turn." Blaise put a hand out to stop Neville from spinning and pulled out a rolled up black cloth.

"What are these, Blaise?" Parkinson's eyes gleamed with a hazy joy that seemed a bit off. If Neville hadn't been hanging upside down and withstanding hours of torture as his "detention" he might have taken notice. "New toys?"

"Something like that. My mum's been showing me a thing or two." He unrolled the cloth to reveal a set of gleaming tools.

"Do you know healing spells, Pans? I'll let you help me."

"I know a couple of basic skin binding spells, nothing for too deep though."

"That's perfect. The method is simple. Just repeated small slices and maybe searing brands. Never ending. You'll continually heal them as I cut so he won't bleed out or even be in any real danger. But the constant pain, the memory of the pain, the feeling of constant slicing through your skin. It really gets to you… Or that's what my mother has lead me to believe. I'd like to try my hand on it while we still have a frog to dissect."

It was horrid. Not a single drop of Neville's blood hit the ground. Yet they had sat there slicing and healing and searing and healing patterns into Neville's back and sides for what felt like hours before McGonagall had found out what was happening and stormed in threatening violently as she could in her position. They had been working on his left arm when she had forced them to stop. Neville had been passed out for at least a half hour. When he woke up he was in his bed in his dormitory, his abdomen laced in scars that would take years to fade, _if_ they even would.

* * *

 _April, 1998_

This was it. The target on Neville's back had grown so big that they had decided that he was entirely expendable. He knew because of the green flash that hit the wall beside where he was standing. Not much by way of warning, but better than being hit square. He was lucky they had sent Goyle. He was a _terrible_ shot. Neville didn't waste a second before he took off down the hall running. He just needed to make it to the seventh floor corridor. He had decided amongst the DA ages ago that it was the safest location to hide out. He was again fortunate that Goyle was as slow moving as he was a thinker. He managed to get to the seventh floor corridor when the silence, save for his panting, was broken.

"Did you really think I didn't know about this room?"

Again with the fishnets. What is it with this hag and the fishnets? If his gran would have seen her in the streets she would have told Neville to cross on the other side as not to give the "lady of the night" the wrong hopes.

"My boyfriend spent the whole of last year obsessing in the room. Of course I knew. Of course I know it's where ya'll have been hiding out. I just can't figure out why it won't let me in." Pansy Parkinson lazily leaned against the wall with her legs sticking out in what she probably thought was a provocative way playing with her wand ready to strike at any second.

"The room," Neville spoke between breaths. Seriously, why does all of these work-outs never actually give him more stamina? "Won't let you in, _Parkinson,_ because you are not on my side. The room answers to me this year. I know it's secrets."

"Curious. You'll have to show me sometime."

" _Stupify!_ " Idiot girl. Not as fast and on guard as she thought she was. That's what you get for trying too hard.

Neville ran into the room just as Goyle was finally catching up to him. Safe. He was safe. For now.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I've been asked what ship this story has. Let's call it a mystery.**

 **This chapter is set in flashbacks showing glimpses of the memories Neville has of Pansy. Next chapter will pick back up where chapter 3 let off.**


	5. In Which Neville has a Relapse

Chapter 5:

In Which Neville relapses.

* * *

Neville suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after the war. He would wake up in cold sweats regularly and situations as an auror would sometimes send him spiralling. He was caught more than once in the middle of an intense anxiety attack during a shift by Dean Thomas. After many patient conversations Dean lovingly forced Neville to see a therapist at St. Mungos.

Neville was hesitant at first, but he understood the importance of needing to be in his right mind when he worked as an auror. With time and the right therapist Neville was able to reach a point of healing. Occasionally something would still trigger an anxiety attack, but Neville was able to live life normally. It was part of the reason Neville decided to accept the Hogwarts position, where he would be subjected to less triggers on a daily basis.

But now? Neville had a trigger for a co-worker.

He stared blankly at Pansy as the words came out of her mouth, cool sweat beading on his forehead and nausea knotting his stomach.

" _I'm at Hogwarts now. And I'll be working with you. And I want us to be able to respect each other."_

For the first several seconds he thought he was fine, but the longer she spoke the harder his heart's pounding sounded in his ears.

Neville couldn't form words and he was grateful she never asked for them. Her own rang in his head flashing memories of the torture he'd endured and the adrenaline that had seemed so invigorating as a seventeen year old.

" _I know words alone don't mean much. And I certainly can't expect to you accept immediately. But, uh… I hope that you can forgive me, Longbottom."_

Pansy Parkinson finished her speech all in one quick breath and stood there for a second looking into Neville's face. After a few seconds of silence and not knowing what to do with her hands she added, "I, uh… Well, have a good night."

She quickly strode out of the greenhouse leaving Neville staring at where she had stood.

 _Did that actually just happen?_

Neville sunk into a seat next to his rose plant and inhaled the minty scent. It immediately helped with his nausea and he began reciting Shakespeare to himself to transition moments. He wanted to focus on herbology right now, instead of dwelling on what had just happened.

"In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell"

' _Words alone don't mean much', of course they don't. My body is littered in scars that no words will remove._

"It fell upon a little western flower,"

 _Beyond that, I_ want _to forgive her. I want to move on as well. But how can I do that if my mind and body betray me every time she is near?_

"Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound... And maidens call it love-in-idleness."

Neville continued in this pattern until he felt entirely calm, then took an analytical look at his plant. Overall he was quite pleased. The plant could hardly be called a plant anymore, it was more of a bush. And he counted seven buds that he hoped would bloom any day.

* * *

"So, you'll ask her out soon, then?" Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny sat around a table at the three broomsticks. Neville was currently being grilled on when he would _finally_ ask Hannah on a date.

"Soon, Gin. I want to give her the roses I've been growing. They're almost ready. The blooms are opening but I want them to be full."

"Aye, mate. Woo 'er with flowers. That'll really get her going."

"I mean, I'm really most concerned that I'll get the whole 'love you as a brother' speech."

"Ah, I _hate_ that one. At least Gin and I went out with a bang." Dean nudged Ginny.

"Shut up Dean! But I'm not sure you really have to worry about that, Nev. She seems thrilled every time you come around."

"She does, but she also acts like that when _anyone_ from our year comes around."

"He's got a point." Dean threw in before he Ginny stomped on his toes under the table.

"True enough, but if he doesn't flat out tell her how he feels how is she supposed to have a chance to turn 'em down?" Seamus had strong feelings about men needing to step up to the plate when it came to relationships.

"Exactly, Seamus! Nev, if you don't give her an opportunity to turn you down you also aren't giving her an opportunity to say yes. You're on the right lines but you need to be _bold_! Don't go in there only fifty percent with one foot out the door. Really put yourself out there."

"Alright Gin, I get it. I'll plan it out this week."

Neville changed the subject and they spent the rest of the evening talking about quidditch.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Another chapter! I've been motivated to set the foundation for this story! So once I've gotten the foundation out of my system I won't be able to update every / every other day like I have been. Working three jobs doesn't leave a lot of writing time. xoxo**


	6. In Which Hannah gets a Rose

Chapter 6:

In Which Hannah gets a Rose.

* * *

It was time! Less than a week later Neville came into his greenhouse to find that seven white roses had bloomed immaculately on his bush. When he got a closer inspection he found that the roses were not just white, but had a opalescent sheen on their petals. When he took one in his hand it reflected and had dull sparkle in the light.

They were more beautiful than Neville ever could have hoped. He inhaled their scent deeply, and they no longer smelled of mint, but of honey and firewiskey.

"Those are beautiful." A woman's voice came from somewhere behind him.

 _Damn that witch._

Neville startled back and turned around abruptly, red creeping up his cheeks.

"Uh, thank you." Seeing Pansy Parkinson had gotten easier the longer she was around. But that didn't exactly mean he was comfortable around her.

"I am not familiar with this strain of rose," Pansy moved closer to the bush to admire the flowers. "What kind are they?"

"I, uh… I invented it. Pearl, moonstone, rose thorns, mint extract, planted in soil mixed with ashwinder eggshells and pearl dust... and some good old-fashioned tender love and care." Neville tried to look natural, like he wasn't sweating at being in the same room with the witch he had had nightmares over. Instead he tried to lean on his workbench and accidentally knocked over a pot.

Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. " _Really?_ Ashwinder eggshells? …. What inspired _those particular_ …. Ingredients?"

Neville was at first surprised she didn't take advantage of the opportunity to make fun of his clumsiness. He waved his wand and the pot repaired itself. Having had years of experience in clumsy made Neville quite familiar with repair spells. But he quickly moved to pondering her inquisitory questions.

 _Really, witch? What's it to you?_

"It just made sense, really. I wanted them to be beautiful, hence the pearl. I wanted them to smell good, hence the mint. From there I was having trouble producing blooms to I trial and errored many different things."

Pansy took a blossom in her hand and inhaled its scent. It was evident that she was trying, and failing, not to scrunch up her pugged nose.

"Smell _good_? Longbottom, as beautiful as these are, they don't smell very good. Just fresh dirt," She smelled again, "something… tangy, and manure."

Neville made a face of confusion, but quickly wrote it off as Pansy being a slytherin. She was making fun of him again.

"What did you need, anyway?" Neville hoped to get this moving along. Another Hogsmeade weekend was just tomorrow, and he wanted to get the roses ready to take to Hannah.

"Oh," Pansy looked up in surprise. It seemed she had nearly forgotten, herself. Neville looked at her, again noting the modest, almost _librarian_ attire. "Well, I was wondering if you would be able to help me with some of these ingredients for potions classes next week."

She reached into her robe pocket and handed Neville a neatly penned list. Having a Slytherin in his debt certainly seemed better than the contrary, so he couldn't find a reason not to help.

"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, thank you! That will save me a trip to Diagon tomorrow. I'll be able to catch up on grading. I can come out tomorrow to help gather the ingredients. I don't want to put all the _work_ on your shoulders. I really just wanted your permission."

"Sure, yeah. Sounds good." Neville was ready for this witch to be gone, already.

"Alright, thank you again! And these roses really are _beautiful._ " With that she quickly walked out of the greenhouses leaving Neville to finally sort his flowers in peace.

* * *

Hannah was wiping down the bar when Neville came in. She looked tired, and strands of her hair that escaped her braid clung to the sweat on her face.

 _She is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen._

Neville took one last big breath before entering the fray.

"Hello, Hannah."

Hannah looked up half-heartedly from the bar nodding her head in his direction. "Hey Nev."

That wasn't exactly the enthusiasm that Neville was hoping for, but he had to proceed before he lost his nerve.

"Hannah there is something I'd like to ask you."

Hannah set down her rag, pulled out two butterbeers and took a seat at the bar motioning for Neville to sit in the one next to her. "Go ahead, Nev, I need a break."

"Thank you. I uh, have something for you." Neville pulled something small out of his waistcoat pocket and proceeded to point his wand at it until it grew into a full bundle of pearlescent roses. Hannah's eyes grew a little at the sight of them, but she remained silent waiting for him to speak.

"I have cared for you for a long time, Hannah. And I have been working up the nerve for a while." Neville shifted a little in his seat, uncomfortable under Hannah's serious stare. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" The words raced each other to get out of Neville's mouth and he thrust the bouquet towards Hannah as he asked.

Hannah looked from Neville to the roses, her cheeks turning a blotchy shade of red. Finally, after what seemed like a full minute to Neville, she reached forward and accepted the roses.

"Oh, Neville… I don't… I uh…" Hannah looked at Neville again, then to the roses and put them to her face to inhale the scent.

 _This witch is going to be the death of me._

She looked up at Neville with a gleam in her eye. "Oh, Neville. Of course I'll go out with you!" A wide smile gracing her face.

Neville could hardly contain himself. He could hide his teeth for the smiles that escaped him.

"Really?"

" _Really._ " Hannah placed a hand on Neville's.

"Oh, wow. If tomorrow too soon? I mean, it probably is." His words racing faster than his heart. "Next weekend would also work. I mean. There's no rush. Yeah?"

"Oh, tomorrow would be lovely! Pick me up at seven?" Hannah could no more hide her smiles than Neville could.

"Of course! Yes. I'll pick you up at seven. Here? … Where should I get you?"

"Here is good!"

"Good."

"Good."

"Okay then, I should go back to the castle, then. Get ahead on grading." Neville stood, stumbling on his own shoes but catching himself just in time not to fall on Hannah.

His face ended up impossibly close to hers. He looked into her eyes. The perfect shade of honey.

She took advantage of this moment to steal a quick peck on his lips before bouncing off of the stool and back behind the bar.

Neville _felt_ red. He felt as though he must be more red than he ever had in his life. But it was worth it. He had stolen a kiss from the woman he loved. .. Or had she stolen the kiss? Neville decided he would tell the story to his friends as though he had stolen it.

He floated out of the Leaky Cauldron yelling to Hannah that he would indeed see her tomorrow and that he looked as forward to it as a man could look forward to anything.

He practically skipped on the streets for nearly an hour smiling at everyone.

He danced in circles as he reached an apparition point out of the alley.

And he might as well have been gliding on clouds as he approached his greenhouses to grade essays.

"Oh, thank merlin you showed up."

Consider his mood deflated.

Neville looked at Pansy as he suddenly remembered having told her that he would help her find the things on her list.

"I found the essential herbs, but some of the more rarities I'm not sure where to look."

Neville took the list from her hands and started to gather the things that hadn't yet been crossed off. His mood was much more serious than before, but he truly couldn't help the ghost of a smile that played on his lips as he worked.

Pansy followed him as he walked back and forth continuing to talk.

"Oh, thank you. I take back what I said yesterday. When I came in earlier I really could smell the fresh mint of your rose bush. I wonder why I couldn't smell it last night? I usually have an excellent sense of smell."

 _With that nose I'm sure you do._

"Anyway, I spent the day grading potions essays and finally caught up." She looked at him as though she expected him to speak, but picked right back up when he didn't. "I, uh.. I really appreciate you being nice to me."

 _Does this witch ever shut up?_

"MacMillan… He has a way of _being_ nice while making you feel like dirt." Her tone became more vulnerable as she spoke; slower, and less rushed. "Not that I'm not dirt. I really was terrible. But it's hard to move forward when the rope you've already climbed is being used to strangle you."

Neville looked at her, the smile gone entirely. He was conflicted. He hated this woman, but she made fair points. She had scarred Neville in more ways than one, but she genuinely seemed to want to move on.

He counted five breaths before he spoke.

"I understand you wanting to be forgiven and forget your past." He wiped his face and continued cutting off sparkling viola heads as he spoke. Pansy silently scooped the heads and placed them in a small charmed burlap bag as he cut. "And, I understand the hardship that Ernie must be facing. It's hard to forget pains you've had to live through when you have lasting scars to remind you every time you look in a mirror." Pansy sucked in a breath. "Neither side is easy. But Ernie is a git. Always has been. It's not exactly fair for him to goad you. But it's not particularly not _not_ -fair either." Neville let out a sigh and stopped cutting. He sat up and looked at the woman sitting next to him. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun and she wore her usual black librarian ninny garb. He was surprised to see her upturned nose tinted pink and her eyes a little red around the edges.

"Ernie makes fun of me every chance he gets, too. It's nothing personal."

Neville stood pretending not to notice that the slytherin had emotions.

"Thank you. And thank you for your help with these ingredients." Pansy rushed the sentence and looked at Neville for several seconds. She was sincere, but she didn't know what to say.

"Uh, you're welcome."

With that pansy quickly gathered her things and left before Neville had a chance to see the tears sliding down her face.

 _Damn emotional women. We weren't even talking about anything emotional._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That's right, when my Neville isn't in patched up sweaters he is wearing waistcoats.**

 **How am I doing?**

 **What's your ship?**

 **I haven't gotten to focus on Hannah much, but I plan to change that this next chapter.**

 **I also didn't have patience to proof read this chapter, I'll return and proof read tomorrow.**


	7. In Which Neville has a Hot Date

Chapter 7:

In Which Neville has a hot date.

* * *

Neville sat at his desk looking out the window as his prefects reported their business. They were really a self sufficient lot. They certainly didn't need his supervision, but he would always be present for show.

While his body was present his mind was fast at work trying to decide what he would do for his date with Hannah. He was mapping out where he would take her, deciding what he would wear, which flowers from his greenhouse he would pull together…

"Commander?" Mandy was looking expectantly at Neville as though she had asked him a question, but Neville had no idea of what she was expecting him to say.

"Uh, sorry. Say that again?"

"I was just asking if you wanted to hear our notes on Professor Parkinson?"

"Oh, yes. Go on." Neville sat up with a new attention span.

"We've been keeping an eye on her throughout daily routines, not doing anything out of the normal to keep track, mind you. And we haven't noticed anything entirely odd. She _has_ been good to us students, and even has specifically apologized to each seventh year for the role she played in our first."

Neville nodded, not entirely surprised. Pansy had been a nightmare, but she seemed genuine in her desire to be a servant of her students.

"We have of course noticed the dramatic change in her attire from what we remember. We aren't sure what has brought along the change, but it does seem a bit odd. Even for a school teacher. I mean, Ms. Pince even branches out in color and has no qualms about showing her forearms and neckline. We were wondering if maybe she is trying to hide the remnants of a dark mark."

He nodded at her statement, it would make sense, but he had no memory of her every actually accepting the mark.

"Very good, Stimpson. Thank you for the update. On that note I think I will leave you to deliberate amongst yourselves, as I have matters to attend to."

"You mean you have a date!" Sarah, an enthusiastic fifth year prefect let slip as she lost herself in giggles.

Neville was a tad taken aback, he was unaware that much of his private life was known to the school. Nor that they even cared.

"Hush, Sarah!" Mandy reprimanded. "We _are_ glad for you sir. We have been rooting for your happiness for years."

A blotchy red crept up Neville's face as the statement sank in. He had no idea that his students were really at all invested in his life. It was flattering, and made the fondness of them deepen in his heart.

"Thank you, all. I appreciate it. But I would also appreciate a bit of privacy in the future. It won't do for rumors to spread all over Hogwarts of the Gryffindor head of house."

Seriousness stirred in the group. "Yes, sir. We understand."

With that Neville left the group to finish getting ready for his date.

* * *

Neville picked Hannah up and was glad to see that she had one of her roses tucked into an elaborate bun. He presented her with a single additional red rose with she happily tucked into her bag. He took her arm as they side-along apparated to a muggle restaurant that Ginny had suggested, somewhere Harry had taken her for her birthday.

"Oh, I love this restaurant!" Hannah grinned broadly as they landed and walked into the little Italian restaurant.

"So.. you've been here?" Neville was a little discouraged that the venue was not new to Hannah, but he was relieved that she was not disappointed in the choice.

They were escorted to a little table in the back of the establishment before the conversation continued.

"So, how are you familiar with this place? I only heard of it through Ginny. Gran doesn't frequent many muggle restaurants… She isn't prejudice, she just doesn't blend well."

"Oh." Hannah's eyes lit with excitement at her memories. "I used to come here with my parents. My father actually proposed to my mother right over there. And my mother would bring me here every year when exams were over and we returned from Hogwarts…. At least," Hannah looked into her lap. "Before the accident."

 _Great. I had one job. Choose a restaurant. And I chose the one place that would make Hannah cry._

"I'm so sorry, Hannah." Neville reached across the table and placed a hand on hers. "I remember how though that year was. I believe it was actually the year we lost contact."

Hannah looked into Neville's eyes and wiped away the tears in her own.

"Thank you, Nev. I believe it was. But I'm glad you brought me here. It is melancholy, but it is good." She smiled up at him a new light in her eye. "Now, let's get you food."

The rest of the evening passed in relative normality. Neville walked Hannah back from the restaurant, as it was only really a few blocks from the Leaky. Hannah held firmly to Neville's hand and pulled him close as the approached her flat above the bar.

"I guess this is it?"

"I guess so."

Neville choked as Hannah pulled him a little closer.

 _Bloody hell. Is this for real? Does she realize that it's me?_

"Would you like to come up for tea? It's chilly out. I'd hate to send you home frozen."

Neville froze. He looked into Hannah's glazed eyes with longing, but he was driven by the strong standards his gran had instilled within him.

"Uh. .. Well, I'd like to, really. But I don't believe it would be very appropriate. And I'd hate to do anything that could potentially spread rumors."

 _Great. Now I look like a bloody idiot._

"Oh," Hannah looked down, disappointment evident. "I'd do anything to make you happy, Nev. So if that includes going up alone I guess I can do that too."

"I mean," Neville was entirely unsure of what to say. He looked at the witch in front of him and a new joy flooded him. He had spent the entire evening with this woman and she had enjoyed it _so much_ she wanted it to continue.

He gently grabbed her chin and pointed it up to look at him.

"You are an absolutely beautiful witch, and… and I am so beyond glad that you have been with me this evening. Thank you." He leaned down and tenderly kissed her lips. "Goodnight, Hannah."

With that, Neville stepped back smiled at Hannah and apparated back to Hogsmeade.

 _Damn, Nev, that was smooth._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Sorry for the delay in updates. I spent friday evening outlining the first 15 chapters. Part one of three. So the next 8 shouldn't take all that long to write…**

 **But gosh. Balancing two jobs, an etsy, and still finding time to write is hard.**


	8. In Which Ginny has Opinions

Chapter 8:

In Which Ginny has Opinions.

* * *

Neville was doing his rounds, watering his plants by hand when the the door to greenhouse three abruptly swung open letting in a huge burst of cold air.

"Bloody hell, Ginny! Shut the door! Do you _want_ my **mimbulus mimbletonia** to explode?"

"Sorry, Nev. It's hard to be nimble with this set." She pointed to her rather large belly and Neville's jaw dropped at the sight.

"Ginevra Weasley. You were _not_ pregnant when we met for drinks a few weeks ago. When did _this_ happen? You look ready to burst! Do you need a seat?" Neville was shut up by Ginny's finger in his face.

"First of all, Longbottom. It's Ginevra _Potter_ now. He made an honest woman of me five years ago as you very well know! You were _in_ the wedding!" Ginny shut the greenhouse door behind her and made her was to the swinging bench conveniently placed in the middle of the greenhouse. "Second of all, _two months._ Not a few weeks, Nev. _Two months_ you've been blowing us off your free nights for Hannah. I mean, I mostly understand. You've been in love with her for ages. But couldn't you spare some time every once in awhile?"

Neville began running numbers in his head because _surely_ it hadn't been that long since his first… and regularly scheduled subsequent dates with Hannah. But it had. Their first date had been in early October and here they were in December.

"Third, you do have a point though. I didn't _look_ this pregnant two months ago. Firstly because I was two months less pregnant, but also because I was hiding it well. After the… miscarriage last year, Harry and I didn't want to announce it until we knew it was safe."

Neville took a seat next to Ginny and placed a hand on her abdomen feeling for the child.

"You'd think with all of the magic and healing we have that miscarriages would no longer be an issue. But more and more every year I am hearing of witches losing their little ones. I personally think it is because of all of the dark magic used in the war."

"As glad as I am to know you care about my little one, I'm not here to discuss the effects of dark magic en utero."

"Oh? What brings you all the way out to Hogwarts Ginny?"

"Well, two things, actually. I've been working on getting presents for Harry, and McGonagall had something of Dumbledore's I wanted to give him. But also to see you. You've been spending all of your off grounds evenings with Hannah and we haven't had any good opportunities to talk about the relationship. Tell me about it, about her, how are you feeling?"

Neville put his hands back in his lap and began twiddling his thumbs.

"She's amazing. I really love her. I don't want to overwhelm her but I want to marry her, Gin."

"How do you think she feels about you?"

"She really seems to like me. I can't explain it, but whenever we're together she only has eyes for me. She insists she would do anything to make me happy." Neville trailed off. He didn't doubt Hannah had feelings for him. But something about her adoration _did_ strike him as a little odd.

"If you are sure, then I won't say contrary. However, Dean does talk about her insistence in calling him 'Deanie' at any given chance. And Seamus told me the other day that she definitely pinched his arse." Ginny looked a little hesitant to continue, "Draco joined in the conversation and admitted that she _always_ winks at him…"

"Oh, that's nothing. She still runs a pub, Gin. She flirts for the tips. If it really bothered me I'm sure she wouldn't continue…"

"If you're sure, Neville. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Neville left some silence and let her words sink in. When he was being honest, Neville didn't like the idea of Hannah flirting with other men. Especially when all things considered Hannah never did things like wink and pinch his bum. But Ginny didn't need to know that.

It was disheartening, but the last two months truly _had_ been wonderful with Hannah. He couldn't imagine why he should doubt her. But there was a feeling in the pit of his gut that, if Neville was being entirely honest with himself, gave him a doubt about Hannah's feelings. But he was not being honest with himself. He would not allow himself to doubt her.

"I appreciate your concern, Gin. I really do." Neville pulled Ginny into a hug. "I don't think there's anything to be concerned about."

"Alright… If you're sure." Ginny hugged Neville back and moved to stand up, straining under the weight of her pregnant belly.

Neville helped her up and helped her back up to the castle to McGonagall's office.

* * *

"Do you have any muggle weeds?" Pansy had found her way into Neville's greenhouse, yet again, while he was grading essays. Neville didn't often like to give essays as homework, he felt projects were a better example of knowledge learned. However, when discussing herbology theory it became difficult to give theoretical projects.

"Yeah, in the flower box to the right are all muggle plants. There may be some weeds among them, by all means, do my weeding for me." Neville barely glanced up as Pansy went around gathering her items. This had become a habit of sorts between them. She would come down while he was working on something or another and talk his ear off while he worked.

"Thank you!" Pansy set to work picking the weeds among the delicate daisies. How Neville got daisies to grow in december was beyond Pansy. But then again so was gardening of any sort. "How have you and Hannah been?"

The question made Neville prickle. It had been a few hours since Ginny left, but his mind still felt ill at ease. He wanted the subject changed.

"We're good. She's coming for Christmas dinner. What about you, seeing anyone?" Hopefully this would set her talking for a year.

"No, I haven't dated in years. Not since Draco." Pansy spoke cheerfully as she worked. Neville wondered what had happened between them, but Pansy continued before he had a chance to inquire. "Things ended well between us, mind you. We keep in touch. We just kind of died out. I officially ended things when I started having feelings for another man. … That wouldn't have been fair to Draco."

Neville vaguely remembered hearing about their split in the chaos of seventh year, and wondered which Slytherin it was that she must have been taken with. Probably Zabini. There were a few moments of silence before she continued.

"Anyway, I finally escaped after the war. Being single helped, I think. By seventh year I knew everything was wrong. But I was too scared to fight it. My family was in deep, I was in slytherin… So I was a coward and went with it. But once the war ended I layed a low profile. I began to see healers for the mental burden. I even went to muggle mind healers, therapists they call them. I mean, the one I saw was a half-blood. It wouldn't have done much good if I couldn't talk about the war." Pansy let out a breath, she seemed a bit nervous for the topic but continued speaking.

"She really helped me find myself. My therapist, that is. She helped me realize who _I_ am. Not who my parents wanted me to be, not who the Carrows wanted me to be, or even who Draco wanted me to be… She peeled away layers and layers of walls and masks that I had built up… It was the most painful yet liberating experiences I've ever had."

"I know what you mean," Neville finally broke in. "I mean, I didn't exactly have the walls or masks." he wasn't entirely sure what to make of the metaphor. "But I also saw a muggle therapist after the war. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is was they called it. But it felt like I was turning into an obscurus. Felt like my heart would shake within me violently. My mind would take me back to memories of the war play by play. Sometimes it felt like I was drowning in air others my head was in the flames of the sorting hat all over again… But somehow 'painful yet liberating' really does describe the process of mind healing."

Neville finished his speech looking at his papers the entire time. When he looked up he realized there were tears in Pansy's eyes.

"I… I'm so sorry. I had no idea, but really I can't say I'm surprised. Not after what we put you through. I…" Pansy trailed off, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was at a loss for words.

"It's all done, now. I mean… I have relapses… But not really unless there's a proper trigger." Neville neglected to mention that until recently she had been a trigger.

"I know, and I am… incredibly glad it's over for you. It's just… I hate that I caused pain in anyone. I hate knowing, and not being able to do anything about, just how evil we were." Pansy must have suddenly realized her face was soaked in tears because she quickly turned around and pulled her black sweater off to wipe her face and nose all over.

It was the first time Neville has seen her in a full colored blouse. It was also the first time he had seen her full arms since seventh year.

Time seemed to go in slow motion as Neville realized why exactly Pansy Parkinson kept herself covered from head to toe in clothes. Lacing her arms, from wrist to somewhere beyond her sleeves, were thin white scars. Scars that looked achingly familiar to the ones that Ginny bore, yet Pany's were tenfold. There were so many that Neville wouldn't have been able to count them if he were given all the time in the world. He stood there staring blatantly until he heard a gasp. Pansy realized what she had unveiled and quickly tried to put her sweater on as she announced she had to go.

Neville was too quick for her, though. He was too compassionate to let her leave without sharing in her plight. He jumped up and grabbed her arm and spoke before she could pull away.

"I… I am familiar with what they are. Why, though? Please tell me it is not still happening?"

Pansy cut him off before he could add anything.

"Because, Neville! I caused _so much pain_ to others, and I never had real world consequences for that. I deserved that and so much more! Don't pretend like you don't have your own scars! I was there! I helped give them to you! I…" Pansy realized she was losing control in the heat of things and took a few more seconds to breath and think through her words. "Because I wanted to bear every scar that I had given." She tried to pull her arm away but Neville held firm until she would finish. "No, it is not current. It ended years ago, with the help of the mind healers. I would be lying if I said there weren't nights when the temptation was there. But I've held strong. I… was just embarrassed you saw them… I…" Pansy let out a breath and Neville released her arm as she finished. "I didn't want anyone to know. Draco found out last year and I've never seen him so angry with me, because I didn't tell him. Because I went through it alone."

"Rightfully so, Pansy. No one should have to go through their trials alone. I don't agree with what you did. But I wouldn't wish those scars on my worst enemy; which, you aren't."

It occured to Neville that they had just used each other's first names for the first time.

"Does that make us friends?" Pansy looked as though she had no words left and wanted to vaporize before Neville looked at her again.

"I guess we are friends now, yes. But Pansy, if you have those temptation filled nights…" Neville trailed off not sure of what he was really offering. "Well, I understand. At least, sometimes I can admit that I don't understand and just listen. You're welcome to wake me up and we can have tea in my study until the temptations pass."

"A-alright. Thank you… Neville." Pansy turned a bit red from the embarrassment of it all and left as soon as she had gathered her things.

Neville sat back at his desk, entirely unsure of how to process all that had just transpired.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I have to leave for work in less than seven hours, but I wouldn't let myself go to bed until I finished this chapter. You're welcome.**

 **That being said, I didn't exactly proof read. Whoops. I hope it makes sense.**

 **Rate and Review, please. :) It's motivating.**


	9. In Which Christmas is Celebrated

Chapter 9:

In Which Christmas is Celebrated.

Neville sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes bleary with sleep. The soft knocking on his door continued as he rubbed at his eyes.

"I'll be right there," Neville stood and pulled his robe over his flannel pajamas. "Let me make myself decent." Tying off his robe he pulled his door ajar just enough to see the red upturned nose and messy dark hair.

"Um, hi. I hope I didn't wake you."

Neville stood up straighter and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew Pansy wouldn't have taken him up on his offer for him to sit up with her unless she was desperate. It had been about a month since he offered and he hadn't heard from her on it. But he was glad she was taking advantage of the offer if she needed it.

"You did, but it's alright. I was up late reading so I couldn't have been asleep long anyway. Come in, I'll make tea."

Traditionally Neville never would have invited a girl into his room. However, his living quarters at Hogwarts was essentially a studio styled flat. His bed just happened to be in his study, which happened to land in his little kitchenette. He led Pansy to a seat near his fireplace and rekindled the dying embers therin. Then he put a kettle of water on a small stove on the other side of the room.

"Thank you." Her words sounded so small. Almost as small as she seemed in that moment. Neville took in the scene before him.

Pansy Parkinson sat in his large reading chair by the fire, only adding to the disproportion in her size. Her hair was messy and hung in her face, her eyes and nose were red from tears, and her flannel nightgown looked to be about three sized too big. He was sure she chose such to drown her scars from view. Completing the image was a purple robe wrapped loosely around the draping gown.

"So.." Neville bagan, not sure of how to continue. "What is on your mind?"

"Nightmares. I woke up from reliving much of seventh year, some of the following, even." A few tears made their way down Pansy's cheeks. "When I wake up from them, alone with my thoughts… that's usually when the temptation to… that is usually when it hurts the most."

"I understand." Neville poured her tea and handed it to her along with his handkerchief, then sat in the adjacent chair. "Do you want to tell me about the dreams? Would that help?"

There was a long silence in which Pansy seemed to find her mug incredibly interesting. Neville waiting, sipping on his own tea allowing her the privacy to process her thoughts.

"Part of me doesn't want to hide anything from you, because what's the point? You know most of it anyway." Pansy took a tentative sip of her tea buying time before she should continue. "Tonight my memories played before me, first of the night Blaise and I… when we gave you the scars on your…. Everywhere. In the dream, every time Blaise cut into your skin i would feel it cut into my own as well. But when I would heal you, it would not heal myself. It hurt so badly, but I was glad to bear it. I didn't like that Blaise was hurting you. He was a monster. He still is. He should have gone to azkaban." Pansy bit out the last words more harshly that Neville would have expected. "But I knew he was going to hurt you whether I agreed or not. And I was far better at healing charms than Blaise."

Pansy took another sip of tea. Closing her eyes to savor the honey Neville had added.

Neville was uncomfortable with the subject matter, but interested to learn of the sympathy that was waring within Pansy at the time.

"The dream adjusted after that. I uh… I don't remember the rest" All of the color drained from Pansy's face, and Neville got the impression that she remembered every detail of the other dreams quite vividly.

A few moments of silence passed between them before Neville broke it.

"I didn't realize you were having a change of heart at that point in the war." Neville tried to sound casual, and would have pulled it off if he hadn't spilt tea in his lap. He set his cup down and reached for his handkerchief to clean himself only to remember he had handed it to Pansy.

"It had been creeping up on me for about a year at that point. But I was dating a death eater. Daughter of supporters. I didn't know how to even voice my thoughts."

Considering things before he spoke, and taking the time to clean himself with his wand, Neville responded.

"In the moments throughout seventh, the torture seemed unbearable. But looking back I can see how much worse things could have been. I can't imagine not having support or back up. I had the whole of the DA behind me at every turn." He swallowed. Suddenly aware of every scar covering his skin. "I… I appreciate anything you may have done that lessened our… lessened _my_ torture. Really, Pansy."

Color krept back into Pansy's face as she took another sip of tea. She looked up at Neville's face slightly surprised at the sincerity she found.

"I… You're welcome." Pansy wasn't sure what else to say.

Neville finished the last of his tea and returned Pansy's gaze. He had never really seen her eyes before. Her bangs usually distracted from the feature. But sitting here with the firelight shining on her flushed face he was struck by the brightness in her gray eyes. They held a sadness, yet a hope that intrigued Neville.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of the clock in his room striking twelve.

"Happy Christmas, Pansy." He grinned at her with his realization of it being in the wee hours of Christmas morning.

"Happy Christmas, Neville." A shy smile spread on Pansy's face.

* * *

"Happy Christmas Hannah!" Neville pulled a package wrapped in brown paper with twine tying a pearlescent rose to it from behind his back.

"Thank you Neville!" Hannah leaned forward to give Neville a lingering hug and accepted the gift. "I would have come to you immediately but I wanted to wander around the castle a bit, see what had changed, see the trees, and Hufflepuff common room. I had heard that Ernie was teaching here but had entirely forgotten!" Hannah pulled back and turned to open their circle to include Ernie MacMillan.

"I found her wondering around near the kitchens. Shouldn't let such a golden gift around here alone, you might lose her!" Ernie winked at Hannah and Neville suddenly remembered that the two had gone steady for a while at Hogwarts. Jealousy flared in Neville, but it was immediately calmed by Hannah placing her head in the crook of his neck snuggling into him.

Neville may not have had the perfect grades and records that Ernie had, and he certainly didn't have the athletic body. But he had Hannah. And that's all he needed to make him happy. Neville wrapped Hannah in his arms and buried his face in her hair.

"I don't ever plan to lose her." Neville kissed her head and lead her into the great hall for Christmas dinner.

They would eat and celebrate with the professors and remaining students then Neville planned to take Hannah to meet his Gran and his parents. It may be a lot for her in one day, but life was busy at this stage in their lives and there hadn't been any other opportunities.

The great hall only had a single round table this year, it seemed not many students had stayed behind. Neville took a seat next to Pansy and Hannah took his other side, Hannah's other side quickly being taken by Ernie.

"Good day to all of you!" Headmistress McGonagall began. "And happy Christmas! I decided a cozy little affair would be the best way for us all to have a visit and celebrate so I transfigured the tables."

"Indeed, Minerva, this is quite the cozy affair!" It was then that Neville notice that Horace Slughorn was also at the table, just on the other side of Pansy.

Conversations broke out and food graced the table. Neville packed his plate and watched as his students and his coworkers partook in joyous conversations.

"Thank you for sitting up with me last night," Pansy had leaned over and spoke quietly as not to be heard through the loud conversations going on around them. "It really meant a lot. I haven't had anybody to talk to in ages." She quickly went back to picking at her sweet potatoes.

He looked over at her, her hair was done up neatly in a braided bun and she was covered from head to toe as always.

"You're welcome." He had leaned over and spoke into her ear.

"That is a beautiful rose, my dear!" Slughorn called across the table to Hannah as he gestured to the rose Neville had tied to her gift. "Where did you acquire it?"

Hannah lit up at the words. "Oh, thank you!" she untied the rose and passed it over to Slughorn. "Neville made and grows them specifically for me!"

"Did he, now!" Slughorn picked up the rose and examined and smelled it. "It's a beautiful creation Longbottom! Very curious indeed, I would love to have further conversations with your about it. Is this your only creation?"

"It is my only completed one. I've been working on several others, sir."

"Very fine, very fine, indeed. Let's meet next week, I would love to hear more about your herbology designs."

"Of course, sir. Just let me know when."

The rest of the dinner passed in normality, Neville ate until he was sure he would explode if he had another tart. He escorted Hannah to his Gran's manor where they all traveled together to St. Mungo's to meet his parents. Everything went as well as expected. His gran refrained from making any comments about being a barmaid, and Hannah was as attentive as ever. Things were looking good for Neville this year.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **YIKES.**

 **That was a lot longer of a turnaround than I had hoped.**

 **This chapter was hard to get out for some reason, I still may come back and make edits but all of the essential parts are there.**

 **I stayed up late christmas eve hoping to complete it then, but I couldn't find the words, then I worked 50 hours this last week and now I have a cold…**

 **Steadily getting it out though!**

I plan to have this story in three main parts. We are currently about two thirds of the way through the first part. It will get pretty crazy here soon…

 **Rate and review and follow and favorite and all of that fun stuff!**


	10. In Which Pansy Breaks Down

Chapter 10

In Which Pansy Breaks Down.

* * *

Pansy collapsed on her bed in a heap. It had been a long Christmas season. She had long given up spending the holiday with her living family, she didn't much like them and their disapproval of her changing lifestyle was always evident. Although she would much rather spend the entire holiday at Hogwarts she _was_ obligated to at least come home for the family dinner.

As the rush of the holiday left her system Pansy's entire facade faded, and as she deflated she was left with only what was inside. _Pain. Loneliness. Regret. Longing._ Pansy had at one point kept a mental note of every feeling, every emotion, that would overtake her at times like these. Now it just seemed useless. It wouldn't stop them from overtaking her. It wouldn't stop her scars from tingling. It wouldn't make Neville Longbottom any more in love with her than he was back in seventh year.

* * *

Black sweater, check. Black tights, check. Conservative skirt, check. Burgundy scarf, check.

Pansy had managed to pull herself together after last evening's… breakdown, for lack of a better word. Neville had shoved a note under her door before she had woken asking if she would come and help sort out some things in greenhouse four. She couldn't refuse herself. Just the idea that he thought about her sent a sparkling sensation down her spine and an involuntary smile to her lips. She grabbed her bag and left for the greenhouses hoping that the day wouldn't end poorly.

"Hey! Over here!" She heard Neville call her as soon as she entered the greenhouse but she couldn't see him anywhere. All she saw was a huge cloud of green mist.

"Neville? What is all this? Where are you?" Pansy lifted her scarf over her mouth and tied it behind her head. These fumes didn't smell very promising.

"Here." His voice appeared low and warm from right behind her ear. Pansy tried to control the shivers down her spine, Neville has a girlfriend for Merlin's sake. He gently tried to pull down her scarf, Pansy could feel his warmth blanketing her back. She sucked in her breath as she felt his fingers graze her neck. This couldn't be real.

"Oh" a small sound of realization escaped Pansy's lips.

It wasn't real. Neville pulled a mask onto Pansy's face so that she could breath. _Classic._

"Uh, thanks." Pansy muttered, and was glad that the mask covered her embarrassment. "So what are we working on."

She followed Neville to the far side of the room and watched as he started gutting seeds out of some sort of gooey pod.

"Well, really I think I have everything covered. Mostly just wanted company… And, there is something I want to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You see, you've spent the entire year cooped up hiding in the castle. You need to get out, have some fun. Don't look at me like that, Parkinson. I mean it."

"Look at you like what? You can't even see my face!"

"I could hear your indignance. It was vibrating across the room. Anyway, New Years eve. There is going to be a big party and you really should come. I'll be coming from the castle, so we could travel together."

Pansy couldn't be hearing this correctly. Stupid Longbottom never really understood what he was saying. Surely he had no _idea_ it sounded as though he was asking her out… right?

"...I don't know." Was Pansy's hesitant reply.

"Come on, it'll be great. Hannah and I would love for you to be there!"

And just like that her stomach deflated so quickly it was surely inside out.

"We talked about it last night, it's going to be at the Leaky and Hannah specifically said she wanted Ernie and you there as well. You need to integrate more. The wizarding world won't get used to you being our friend until they see you around more often. Plus, Malfoy will be there, so you won't have to be alone at all."

Neville continued but Pansy could no longer hear his words. She felt as though she had been sliced straight through her ribcage. Breathing was difficult, even through the mask. She watched Neville as he spoke. His face was round, his body was no less fluffy than it had been years ago. What on God's green earth attracted her to him? He was 'cute', sure. But he was not her type at all.

It had truly all began back in seventh year. She was taken slowly by him. At first it was easy to poke fun at him. Timid little Nevs, always slinking back from the teachers. But 'timid little nevs' was not the Neville Longbottom that returned to Hogwarts that year. He looked the same; but he carried himself differently, he spoke with authority, he acted with the assurance of Potter himself. It was bloody attractive. And there he was the entire year, taunting her with the bravery that she never had. It seemed every other day she would tear him down in the halls. He was brave, but she always won. Because Pansy Parkinson was a Slytherin, and she wasn't afraid to play dirty if it meant saving her own skin. But no matter how many curses and hexes she used against him he always refused to use damaging spells against fellow students, anything stronger than stupify was not an option. The exception being when Blaise corned Luna in a hallway one day and started teasing her. He had pushed her against the wall and was starting to do merlin knows what when Neville heard her screams. He came barreling down the halls and didn't leave until Blaise was unrecognizable. Four broken ribs, a shattered knee cap, even a cracked skull. The bastard deserved it. And it only made Neville all the sexier in Pansy's eyes.

When Blaise took it in his hands to slice every inch of Neville's skin it was a personal vendetta. Sure, broken bones were nothing to Madam Pomfrey, but having to face Slytherin house after such a beating was more than Blaise's ego could bear.

That day truly broke Pansy. She was so close to him, holding him, touching his skin, inhaling his scent of sweat and soil. His blood soaked her clothes, yet she wouldn't leave his side lest Blaise go any further. She had wanted to vomit, to cry, to tear off her bloodied clothes; yet she could not let down her facade. She was dangerously balanced in her house, her parent's lives likely depended on her actions. She held through until sweet _sweet_ Minerva McGonagall herself came to his rescue. Afterwards she truly wasn't the same, and never could be again. She couldn't even pretend to be in love with Draco anymore, so they officially stopped pretending. From that point on the only man she every truly admired, trusted, respected even, was Neville Longbottom. She had admitted such at length to her therapist, after the year it took to finally warm up to the muggle mind healer. She tried to move on, but she ended up right back here with the pudgy, awkward, bumbling man of her dreams.

He was not her man at all, really. And she had to remind herself of that as she watched him speak to her. She felt as though she might explode. This wasn't fair _at all_. This was the last thing she wanted to be going through. Whatever he was saying, pure intentions and all, was re inflating her stomach with a new boiling sensation. The longer his lips moved, telling her how to live her life to the fullest, the more inflated she became. How was she supposed to keep listening to this? How could he suppose he even remotely understood her life?

And then he said it; the words that ignited the hurt within her.

"You don't have to be alone, Pansy. You are the one holding the key to your own cell."

The sentiment seemed so sincere and innocent, but they sparked an anger within Pansy that she hadn't felt in months.

"Stop! Stop. Right. There. Longbottom! I will not listen to another word of your _TRIPE_! Don't tell me how to live _my_ life. Don't act as though you know what it is like to be me! As though you have any idea what is best for me! You don't know a bloody thing about what goes on in my head! You don't, truly you don't." Pansy stomped her foot so hard her shin stung but she beared in closer to Neville's face and took a selfish pleasure in the surprise and hurt she saw in his eyes.

"For you to _dare_ accuse me of locking myself up, like it's my _CHOICE_ to be lonely and hurting! You have _no_ idea! You have _NO_ idea… I don't hold any keys. Or else I would have taken control of my life a _long_ time ago. But unfortunately my happiness depends on another twat who has no real interest in _MY_ happiness at all! So take your life advice, your schemes to set me up or whatever, and shove it up your chubby arse!"

At that Pansy stomped as hard as she possibly could on Neville's toes and angrily ran all the way back to her room before she realized she was still wearing the mask.

 _All the better for it, at least no one saw my tears._

Pansy threw the mask at the wall and collapsed onto her bed burying her wailing cries into her pillow.

 _How could I be so stupid? How could_ he _be so stupid? What kind of a professor am I? Throwing a tantrum just to express my hurt! But how could he dare! How could he dare… presume…._

The more Pansy thought about it the less fault she could find in anything Neville had said. But it didn't take away her hurt, it only added guilt and shame on top. She wailed into her pillow, she cried from hurt, from embarrassment, and from shame. She would never be able to look him in the face again.

Just as she was finally able to calm herself down, no less than an hour and a half later, she heard a knocking on the door. Pansy was terrified. Surely everyone who was at the school had heard by now. Fortunately there weren't many there, but Pansy was nowhere near ready to face MacGonigal.

"Pansy?" she heard Neville's soft voice pleading from behind the door. All of the exertion had sparked a migraine, and Pansy couldn't think straight. Her throat felt raw, but Pansy didn't quite remember screaming _that_ hard... She walked towards the door, but knew she couldn't answer it. "Pansy, please let me in. I want to make sure you're okay. I'm really worried."

She pressed her back against the door and slowly slid down curling against his voice as though it offered her salvation.

"I can't. I…" Her voice cracked and tears started racing down her face again. "I can't look at you right now." She answered honestly.

"Then I'll just sit right out here, then. But the tea I brought will get cold." She heard Neville trying to sit followed by the rattling of a teacup and Neville's muffled curse indicating he spilled the tea all over himself.

 _Typical. What an idiot. Why did I have to fall for him?_

"I'm not sure what I said that triggered you. But I would like to know. I know I don't know what's in your head, Pans. But I know PTSD, and even if the demons you're dealing with look different I understand that whatever happened out there … that you couldn't help yourself. I… I'm sorry that I presumed to know what's best for you. I'm no mind healer, I'm no expert." Neville exhaled and let the silence hang for a second. "Merlin knows I'm no expert at anything. Everything I put my hand to fails ten times before I succeed. You don't even want to know what mishap caused the fog. So of course I would mess up our friendship when it was going so well. I'm sorry. I just want to fully understand what exactly I should be sorry for so I never do it again… Truth be told, you kind of terrify me, Parkinson. I don't like being on the receiving end of your wrath. I… are you even hearing me?"

Pansy didn't answer.

"No doubt you put a silencing charm on your room the moment my monologue started. That's okay, it's not like this speech will be any better than the one that set you off earlier. … I can't seem to do anything right. I don't understand, I just …"

She heard a hushed sniff and Neville readjust against the door.

"Nothing I do is right. Nothing. I don't know why Hannah is with me. She is so wonderful. I'm terrified at any moment I'm going to do something wrong and lose her. I do so much harm that I never realize I do, earlier for example. I caused you so much pain, I could feel it. And I don't even know what I did. I just can't do anything right. I just want to be able to do something right for once. But I can't. No matter how hard I try… Me and my _chubby arse_ always manage to fumble into failure."

The last sentence was spoken barely above a whisper and elicited an entirely new set of tears from Pansy. Her words were like knives. She had lost control and her words had sliced him apart. She was hurt, in pain, miserable, unable to think cohesively, but one thing she was sure of. Pansy Parkinson was a monster.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **This chapter wasn't originally planned. But when I sat down to write this is what came out, and I wouldn't have it any other way. The last few weeks for me have been a bloody roller coaster. Between mental health, ex-boyfriends, and leaving one of my jobs… I feel like this chapter is essential to understanding Pansy. She is broken. She is trying so hard to be normal when she doesn't even know what normal is. Unable to free herself from the pain that has been felt in the past. Every new hurt is a weight added to her burden.**

 **I know I'm kinda all over the place on these mental health shoutouts in my story. That's somewhat intentional. Mental health, personality disorders, etc, can't be easily diagnosed and boxed up. Bear with me as things will hopefully be more clear as the story progresses.**

 **Also, bear with the dumb little typos. My mind never sees them until a few days after I've written it and I don't want to wait that long to get this out to you.**


	11. In Which Draco is a Hero

Chapter 11:

In Which Draco is a Hero

Neville leaned against the bar. Life was good. Colors were bright, friends were dancing, and Hannah was working at the bar just behind him. She would occasionally rub her face in the back of Neville's hair and nip at his ear. The new year was shaping to be a good one.

He closed his eyes and soaked in the happiness. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so full, so complete, so loved. Hannah handed him an ale and Neville happily accepted.

"Hello, mate." Dean landed on the stool next to him. Neville grinned at his friend.

"Hey _Deanie_."

"You're chipper. Finally get laid?" Neville's demeanor became rigid as he looked at Dean.

"Don't be stupid. You know I'm not like that. Life has just been good lately." His defense coming out a bit harsher than he had meant.

"Slow down, mate. I'm not compromising your honor. How is life though? More specific than 'good'?"

"No worries. Well, things have been going _really_ well with Hannah. I introduced her to my parents over Christmas and mum seemed to like her hair. Gran wasn't as big a fan, though. She wouldn't tell me why, exactly. She just sent me an owl a few days later saying she would respect my decisions, but that she… uh, isn't a fan."

Overall Dean wasn't that interested in Neville's love life, and the conversation quickly changed to quidditch prospects for the next year.

"Oh hey, Draco decided to show his swotty face. Oi! Malfoy! Come fill us in on your take on the Canons!"

Neville looked up to see Draco come through the door pulling someone through behind him. He was taken aback to see Pansy. He didn't think that she would come. She was wearing all black again, not even hints of color in her scarf. She was wearing a clingy long sleeved black dress that went all the way to the floor. As his eyes traveled back up he realized that Pansy actually had a fair bit of cleavage on display, but through a dark sheer material that dipped surprisingly low. It was also clear how her curves had become more defined over the years. She wasn't slender like Hannah, but her hips swang in a sinful way in that clingy material. Her emerald flower hung around her neck, boasting the only color she would ever wear. Neville took another lazy sip from his ale as he analyzed this paradox of a woman.

She had positively _exploded_ at him earlier in the week. He really did understand that she didn't mean to, and was clearly upset that she hurt him. She had meekly come to him a few days later and apologized, and hadn't so much as looked at him since.

Neville was startled out of his thoughts when Hannah's breath caught in his ear;

"Hey baby. You look irresistible tonight, you know that, right?" She finished by nipping at his ear, causing Neville to blush a bright shade of red. Not that he didn't like it. He liked it a little too much, actually.

He turned back around to face the bar and caught Hannah's face before she had a chance to react.

"Not nearly as irresistible as your lips." He captured her in a deep lingering kiss that sent shivers through his body.

"Get a bloody room." Draco declared placidly as he swept Pansy close to the bar. "Pans, you know Hannah and Neville, obviously. And you've seen Dean Thomas in passing several times recently. But let me introduce you proper." Draco pulled Pansy around so her back was facing Neville and introduced her to Dean.

Dean, not being one to pass up on an opportunity to get better acquainted with a beautiful woman jumped to his feet and took her hand from Draco, placing a sweet kiss on her fingers.

"The pleasure is mine, I am sure." Dean gave her a killer smoulder which resulted in a light, genuine laugh from Pansy.

Draco draped his arms around her as he laughed.

"Oh, Pans. I haven't heard that lighthearted of a laugh from you in a while. It becomes you. Makes your face less pug-ish." Pansy swotted her way out of Draco's arms, laughing in a playful manner, just as Neville turned to watch.

"Don't be a twat. You know perfectly well that I laugh wholeheartedly at your face on a regular basis."

Neville was intrigued. He had never heard Pansy be so playful. At least, not since their school days. But that playfulness was usually rooted in cruelty. Now she was just bantering with Malfoy. Flirting. He watched as they spat witty replies back and forth and he had to wondered if they were here as a date. Malfoy certainly had his hands all over her.

"Glad to see that you could make it, Parkinson." He gave Pansy a lopsided grin as Hannah came around the bar to hang on his side.

"Yeah well, Drakie here talked me into coming." She patted her hand on Draco's chest as if marking her territory. Neville was generally confused at Pansy's apparent change in personality. Or would it be reverting to who she was more like in school?

" _Merlin sake,_ Parkinson. I know you only use that nickname to torture me, but it really _does_ torture me. And stop laughing Thomas, or I'll have your arse next rounds." Dean ducked as Draco took a swipe at the back of his head.

" _Anyway_ , I poured us all a shot of firewhisky. Drink up. We have three hours till midnight and we need at least _one_ shot an hour!" Hannah passed Neville a glass and threw back a shot.

"You missed one, Hannah. There's only four."

Hannah pointedly sneered at Pansy.

"My bad, Deanie. It was an accident, I'm sure." She said as she passed the remaining two to Dean and Draco.

"That's alright. I try not to drink much anyway." Pansy threw Dean a sparkling smile and clung closer to Draco, laying one hand on his chest. "If you need to be inebriated to have… fun" Pansy squeezed Draco's arse with her free hand. "Then how do you know you're actually having fun?"

* * *

Pansy was exhausted.

She really wasn't planning on coming out tonight, let alone staying out so late. But Draco appeared in a whirlwind, took her shopping, he even curled her hair for her. She would have considered it bizarre if she didn't know Draco so well. The guy had a sixth sense. He always seemed to know when she needed his encouragement. They'd spent the day being silly and shallow. And while Pansy wouldn't really want to be who she was in school, ignoring the issues of the world brought back a sense of her personality that she felt like was buried under concerns.

As the night had worn on, however… Pansy was beginning to wear out. She thoroughly enjoyed dancing. She had blocked out Neville and Hannah from her mind and took advantage of the close friendship she had with Draco. There was nothing romantic between them, but they both knew it was a lift to Pansy's spirits to parade around with him. It inflated her long extinguished ego to show people that the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor and no. 2 auror in Britain was spending his time with her. She had danced with Draco and Dean for what felt like hours.

Blocking out Neville and his girlfriend only lasted so long, though. He kept trying to get near her to make sure that the air was clear from earlier in the week, and as the night went on he was becoming more and more drunk. Fortunately Draco was a wonderful wingman and played blockade throughout the evening.

It was around 11:30 when she finally fell into a booth and watched the festivities around her. Somehow an entirely sober, and 7 months pregnant, Ginny Potter was still going strong on the dance floor with her husband. Dean was leaning against the bar talking to Draco. Neville… Pansy caught a flash of him and had to look away. All of the confidence that had been filling her the entire evening rushed out of her in a moment. It wasn't fair that he had that much power over her. He was pushing Hannah into the far wall, snogging her senseless.

Pansy had her wand in her hand without even remembering grabbing it. She wasn't going to hex them. But she wanted to. In third year she'd hexed a girl for flirting with Draco, and in fourth she hexed Draco for snogging someone other than her. She wasn't that person anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't have the urges. Damn Longbottom. Damn him to hell.

"You look tense." Dean Thomas slipped in the booth across from her and handed her a butterbeer. "I figured you'd want something after all that exertion." He offered the drink with a wink and cheeky grin.

"Thank you. And I'm fine, just tired from all the dancing. Having two fine partners does that to a lady you know." Pansy tried to speak more upbeat than she felt, but Dean called her out.

"You're Not alone, you know. A lot of us pretend to be happy and live like normal only to be crushed by reality as soon as we slow down."

"Am… Am I that obvious?" She was a bit taken aback by his accuracy.

"Not really. But I am a trained and experienced Auror. And I make a habit of observing beautiful women in particular."

Pansy hid her blush behind her butterbeer. It had been awhile since someone had legitimately flirted with her. She couldn't remember how she was supposed to respond. Witty repartee came naturally when she was with Draco, but she didn't know how to handle Dean Thomas.

"Do you.. Uh… make a lot of arrests? What does the day to day life of an Auror actually look like?"

She spent the next half hour conversing with Dean until Draco arrived lazily levitating three flutes of champagne announcing that the countdown was beginning. This was it, the new year was finally upon them.

It was set to be an interesting year, for sure.

* * *

"I should go home now, Hannah." Neville's head was foggy. He knew he had had too much to drink, but the reality of the headache he'd be waking up to in the morning was hitting him.

"Aw, Nevie. Just stay with me. Stay the night." Hannah pouted her lips as she pulled Neville closer to her, trying to unbutton his shirt but being hindered by his sweater vest.

It was tempting. Neville looked down at Hannah, her dress giving him a full view of her cleavage. Really, not much was left to his imagination. Neville didn't remember her showing so much earlier in the evening, though. Maybe she had a sweater on? It was getting hard for Neville to focus while he was drunk, and Hannah was pushing her breasts out at him while trying to unbutton his shirt. He began to close his eyes and just inhale her scent. Most people had left the party. But Neville still felt conscious of having an audience.

"I… Should sleep at the school."

"Aww, nev." She pushed herself closer into him. "There's no need for you to wake up at the school, you can go back in the morning.

The thought was so tempting. But Neville was not a stranger to the wizarding world. Hannah had grown up mostly in the muggle world with her muggle mother. Things were very liberal and progressive in the muggle world. But her a reputation damage would not be easily mended.

No. If he really cared for Hannah the best thing for him to do is to return to the castle before long.

"I'm sorry, love. I need to go." Neville peeled himself away from her before she could tempt him even more. Even through the haze of firewhisky he knew that if he hesitated any longer he would make a decision he would long regret. He kissed her on the nose and promised to visit her on the next weekend. And with that he flood back to Hogwarts.

This year was off to a beautiful start.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Sorry again for the long wait, but things are starting to come together!**

 **Thank you so much to those who have Favorited and subscribed! It means so much. :)**

 **And thank you so much for reviewing! Especially Arwengeld, opening and finding all of your reviews was really encouraging. :) Enjoy!**


	12. In which Neville has Prospects

Chapter 12

In which Neville has Prospects

* * *

Pansy Parkinson awoke to a light tapping noise on her window. She climbed out of bed and quickly pulled the owl inside before all of the heat escaped the room, giving it some croutons to eat while she stoked her fire and put a kettle on to boil. It was a bright new day, and despite how much power Neville had over her self-worth (which she _was_ trying to rectify.) she felt good. Hopeful about the new year, even.

At the hooting of the owl Pansy turned to relieve the bird of it's rather thick looking envelope.

"Now there, sweetie. Don't worry I'll free you of your letter." She pulled off the envelope and read the enclosed note.

 _Parkinson,_

 _Last evening was a blast. But you seemed a little tense. Take these crystallized lavender sprigs. They have magical stress relieving properties. Not really. It's just a scientific muggle thing. But they still are calming._

 _Until the next time,_

 _D. Thomas_

Pansy couldn't help the smile that played on her lips as she pulled the crystallized lavender from the envelope. She had an admirer. Somebody saw her for who she is and… well, was being bold with her. It was invigorating.

* * *

Neville awoke to incessant pecking at his window.

 _PECK BANG ECHO PECK_

 _PECK ECHO BANG PECK_

 _ECHO PECK BANG BANG_

Neville was hungover. He swore on his living Gran's future grave that he would never touch alcohol again if only the banging would _stop_.

 _CRASH_

Well, at least the banging stopped? The owl crashed through his window and landed on his head. Neville finally gave in and sat up, becoming more aware of his surroundings. It seemed he had made it to his bed but not under his covers. Or out of his shoes. He quickly pulled the note off of the owl and hurled the bird back out of the broken window. Needless to say, he was a little on edge this morning. Grabbing his wand he flung for the window to repair itself while he opened the letter.

 _Neville,_

 _I look forward to our meeting this day. Sorry to say that I need to push back our time just an hour or so, as my morning has begun slower than expected. But I look forward to seeing your gardens and herbology projects. See you on the noon._

 _H. Slughorn_

Neville cursed to himself remembering that he had scheduled to meet with Slughorn today. How could he forget? What a blessed happenstance that he should push the meeting back. That at least gave him time to get rid of his hangover. Hopefully Pansy would have a potion or something that would help. Neville wasn't really informed when it came to such remedies. It wasn't something he usually had to deal with. Gathering his thoughts and breath he changed clothes, as not to look too done in for, and exited his room into the corridor that led between the professors quarters.

"Aye, Longbottom. Guess you weren't as lucky as some of us last night, then?" Ernie was just coming down the hall towards his room wearing the same clothes from the night before, disheveled though they were. "I guess Abbott perhaps isn't into… what do the muggles call it? A dad-bod?"

Neville ignored Ernie's statements and went to knock on Pansy's door. The sooner she could help him the better.

* * *

"Thank you again. I usually hardly drink, I'm not sure what got into me last night." Neville took the vial that Pansy was handing him and drank it as quickly as possible.

"It looked like multiple shots every hour got into you." Pansy couldn't entirely hide the biting note behind her statement. But fortunately Neville was too focused on his potion to take notice. "Feeling any better?"

"Much, thank you Pansy." Neville looked up at Pansy and truly saw her for the first time this morning. She was… wearing colors. A pair of slim fitting jeans and a green v-neck sweater. And, now that Neville was paying attention, he noticed that she had changed out her normal green necklace for a sprig of crystallized lavender on a silver chain. "Hey! You're wearing colors!"

Pansy chuckled awkwardly at the exclamation as she put away the supplies she had used. He watched her as she reached up to put items away on the higher shelves. He liked the color. It made her look younger. More alive. … More voluptuous. Not that Neville _really_ noticed. But he made note from an unbiased standpoint.. As an ex-auror, of course.

"Yeah. Draco made me get them when we went out yesterday. I woke up in a great mood. Things just felt right for it today."

"Oh, is that where you disappeared to yesterday? I was wondering. Are.. you two… a thing again?"

"Oh gosh no." Pansy choked on a laugh as she placed a warming charm on her cold tea. "He just knows how to cheer me up when little else can."

"Well it certainly worked. I don't think I've ever seen you so cheerful." Pansy hid her blush behind her mug.

"Well, I hate to admit it, but you sort of had a point the other day. Going last night was good for me. I made some new friends. I needed that. I'm thankful that Malfoy drug me along."

"Well, take it from me, it certainly looked like you were the one doing the escorting. And I'm glad, though. I'm your friend, and so is Draco, and I'm glad to know that you're getting along with Hannah and Dean."

Pansy couldn't help the befuddled expression on her face, that was too oblivious Neville to notice. How could he have been so aloof to the fact that Hannah hated her still, and that Pansy didn't even speak to her more than was necessary? She guessed Neville really was drunk off his arse.

"Don't you have a meeting soon?"

Neville checked his pocket watch only to announce his own stupidity for having a pocket watch that didn't work.

"Yeah, I should head down. But talk to you later? Yeah?"

Pansy shrugged an assurance she'd come down later and grade papers while he was doing his "gardening" stuff and Neville rushed down to his greenhouses to meet with Slughorn.

It seemed things were heading back to a normal middle ground for their friendship. At least, they were moving forward.

* * *

Her heart raced as she crumpled the fourth piece of parchment and threw it in the wastebasket. What on earth was an appropriate response to what Dean had sent her earlier in the morning? She didn't want to be _too_ flirty. But she also didn't want to come across as madam Pince. Why was such a simple thank you note causing her so much anxiety? Neville took notice as she heaved a sigh and pulled out another sheet of parchment.

"Are the essays that bad? That's the third or fourth you've tossed." He was sitting at a workbench on the other side of the greenhouse facing her, but spending all of his time looking down quietly and working on something or another.

"Oh," Pansy's cheeks reddened with the realization that she had spent the last hour writing back Dean with nothing to show for it and exactly zero essays graded. "Well," she countered. "You're terribly quiet today. Did Slughorn's visit not go well?"

"Actually," Neville looked up, paused, cleared his throat, looked back down at his hands, then back up at Pansy before he began to speak. "It went well. Very well. I think. I…" He cleared his throat again before finishing. "Wanted to hear your thoughts on some stuff if you don't mind." His words finally tumbling out over one another.

"Go on." Pansy set down her quill and gave Neville her full attention.

He took a full breath and squeezed his eyes shut looking down, and when he finally looked back up into Pansy's eyes she knew that he was trying to force out his confidence. It worked apparently. The timidness he had shown over the last hour was immediately replaced with assured confidence.

"Slughorn is on the board of the Ministry of Magic's Magical Remedies for Magical Maladies division. They are investing a lot more of their efforts into research this next year. Really trying to drag Wizarding Britain into the twenty first century. This summer they are putting together a team called the MRMMR. Magical Remedy for Magical Malady Research. Don't ask me who is in charge of coming up with these names."

Neville ran his hand through his hair which was just stiff enough to give him a very debonair presence. He crossed his arms and continued.

"Slughorn wanted to see my work, and get a better feel for my knowledge in herbology, because he thinks I would be a good fit for the MRMMR. I would still be able to teach at Hogwarts, and I would be back by the end of August…. Luna and Rolf have already committed to going."

"Going where, exactly?" Pansy interjected.

"Africa. A lot of the magical wildlife there has yet to really be investigated. And I would be gone for two months."

"Neville," Pansy composed herself to mirror Neville's mood, which was oddly stoic for having had such an amazing opportunity laid out before him. "That's amazing! Honestly, Slughorn wouldn't recommend you unless he truly had faith in your abilities. When will you leave?"

Neville uncrossed his arms and started fiddling with the objects on his desk, not meeting her eyes.

"Well, I didn't say yes… I didn't say no, either!" He quickly amended. "But it's a lot to take in. I mean, it would mean leaving Gran alone in Britain. And… leaving Hannah." He stood to walk over to his rose bush and started to prune some of the branches.

The plant had several blooms on it again, and smelled of sweat and soil to Pansy. Something about the plant just didn't sit right with Pansy. It was absolutely beautiful, she couldn't deny it. But the way it would change scents depending on whether or not it had blooms, and the specific ingredients (for lack of a better term) made Pansy uncomfortable. Pansy was a potions master. She knew hundreds of potions by heart and thousands more by association. She had learned the secrets behind ingredients and even what goes in to inventing new potions. While what Neville had made was in no way a potion, it bore specific parallels to amortentia. She brushed it off at first, it being a plant and all. But the more time went on the more suspicious of the plant she became. When the plant was in bloom it smelled just like Neville did to Pansy, just like what attracted her. Soil, manure, and sweat. She wasn't sure how it would work, let alone if there was any grounds for her suspicions. But every time her attention was drawn to it she felt unsure.

"How are things with Hannah, then? Would she not be okay with you taking this opportunity?"

"I'm not sure." He glanced up at her, then back down to his plant. "I mean, we're doing well! But I'm not sure how she would feel about me going. Sometimes I question if she even likes me, then when we're together she is so attentive, and will barely even let me leave. I don't know how she would do without me for two whole months. The longest we have gone is two weeks. I didn't hear from her but once during that time, but then when we reunited…" Neville turned red and cleared his throat. "It will be another two weeks before I'm able to go into town again, with students returning and all. I will speak to her about it then?"

Pansy honestly didn't know what to say. Everything he said only raised her suspicion of what was happening. But how on earth would she approach the subject with him? How could you tell a man that you so admire that the only reason the love of his life is interested in him is because he has been inadvertently dosing her with love potion?

She looked up at him and saw such a sincerity in his blue eyes, she couldn't speak. She nodded that his suggestion was probably the best course of action, and spent the rest of the afternoon speaking as little as possible. Yet when it was time to head up to the castle for dinner, her focus had still not allowed her to grade a single essay.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Things are going to get so much worse before they get better...**

 **Please don't hate me.**


	13. In Which Neville Loses his Mind

Chapter 13

In Which Neville loses his mind.

* * *

Pansy was supposed to be patrolling the halls. It was valentine's day, and as it fell on a friday evening many of the students in mixed house relationships tried to find sneaky ways to be with each other. Pansy knew better than to fall for their poor attempts to be discreet.

Yet she let most of them get away with it, only breaking up the students who _really_ teetered on the edge of propriety.

Historically Pansy disliked valentine's day. Draco had always been a thick boyfriend when it came to such holidays, so in order to not have her feelings hurt she had long decided to just not care for the minor holiday. But the day was growing on her.

She had awoken to strawberry and cheese pastry and fresh coffee. How he had managed to get it to her she didn't know, but sitting next to the tray was a little note card tied to lavender.

 _Parkinson,_

 _I hear today is a holiday. I'm not much good at those, but that doesn't mean you should miss out._

 _-D. Thomas_

It had taken her by surprise. She and Dean had kept in contact over the last month and a half. They had even gotten dinner one weekend. She enjoyed her time with him, but she feared at any moment he would see her for who she used to be.

Dean was relentless, though. A Gryffindor in one of her classes had approached her with a cigar box after class. He had said that his brother's friend asked him to deliver the package. She could hardly wait until her students were gone to open the box. When she did she found the box to be filled with crystallized lavender with a note on top.

 _Parkinson,_

 _You are smokin' enough for the both of us, so inhale the muggle magic of lavender instead of cigars._

 _-D. Thomas_

During lunch she was approached by a Ravenclaw who handed her a bouquet of peonies with little sprigs of lavender throughout. Again, with a bluntly stated card.

 _Parkinson,_

 _Pansies felt too standard, so I went for the next flower on the alphabetical list. That's how that works, right?_

 _-D. Thomas_

During her free period as she was grading essays three doves flew in through her open doorway carrying a basket.

 _Parkinson,_

 _Stop grading so harshly, your face will get stuck that way. Take a break to eat these chocolates._

 _-D. Thomas_

There were 12 incidents in all, each with little cards and gifts from Dean. It was overwhelming. It made Pansy feel 10 years younger. It made her happy. She walked up and down the halls with a bounce in her step and a happy trending tune stuck in her head.

It felt nice to be appreciated.

Before her patrols had started Pansy had written Dean a note and sent it to him with one of the doves that had followed her the rest of the day.

 _D,_

 _I give you a 12 out of 12 for effort, but a 7 out of 12 on execution. Receiving a gift through the grapevine is not as enjoyable as receiving them directly from the sender. And in answer to your final question; Yes, I would be honored to be your valentine._

 _-P_

Thinking back on the transactions made her feel warm inside. Perhaps that is what was influencing her lenient mood this evening.

As she was passing a courtyard she heard a voice mumbling from the bushes and rolled her eyes as she approached who she presumed to be a student. It wasn't until she was closer that she recognized it to be Neville's voice. Drunk. And quoting… was that Shakespeare?

"Neville!" She rushed to the bush he was slumped behind and yanked the bottle of firewhiskey from his hands. "What are you thinking! A student could see you!"

"Pansy? S'that you?" He squinted up at her and clumsily reached to grab her hand, incidentally yanking her to sit next to him. She awkwardly fell in place next to him in the dirt. "Siddown. I need yuravice." His words slipped out in mumbled slurs.

"What's the matter Neville? Are you okay?" She began to worry. It wasn't like Neville to ever drink on school grounds. Let alone get piss drunk where a student might see him.

"S'hannah."

"She didn't dump you did she?!" Pansy sucked in a breath. Stupid love flowers or no, breaking up with someone on valentine's was not okay.

"No. no, but shees avoidin' me. She came by today." Neville forced himself to sit up more and shook his head in an attempt to sober his thinking just a bit. "She brought me a care package for valentine's day."

"That doesn't sound like she's avoiding you."

"No, but when I gave her a dozen red roses and my mother's locket it was like she couldn't get away fast enough." The more he spoke the more solid his words became.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I ran into her in the hall on my way back from the kitchens where I had gotten chocolates from the house elves. .. Don't tell 'Mione. I didn't actually know she was coming today, though, so it was quite a surprise. She quickly gave me the basket. So I gave her what I was about to send her in a package. I asked if she wanted to take a walk on the grounds but she said no, that she needed to be somewhere else just then. And it was like she couldn't get away fast enough. She's too perfect and she's starting to realize it. Oh Pansy. Oh Pansy, what do I do? I love her so much."

Pansy swallowed hard. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry and she considered the bottle of firewhiskey in her hand. Standing, she took three large gulps of the burning liquid before she responded. It was time to tell him what she had been dreading for weeks. She would rip this band-aid quickly. Get it out there before she loses her nerve.

"Neville," She cleared her throat. "I don't think you are going to like what I have to say. But I care about you and you need to listen." She was pacing back and forth and he leaned forward, interest peaked.

Pansy took another swig of the whisky.

"I wasn't sure before, otherwise I would have spoken sooner. But I have been watching for months. And.. Well I'm sure now. You need to know. Those roses you have been growing for Hannah? They're amortentia. I wasn't sure at first! I doubted! But your ingredient list kept coming back to my mind. All items used in the infamous love potion."

Neville sat staring at her, not comprehending what she was trying to tell him. She took another swig.

"And the way your freakish plant always changes scents when it blooms? That's exactly like amortentia. They way Hannah gets all doe eyed when you give her those roses? Love potion. The way she is standoffish and not as all-over-you when you give her any other kind of flower? Amortentia withdrawal. I'm sorry, Neville. But I don't think there is anything you can do. I don't think Hannah truly loves you."

Neville looked up at her through his heavily lidded eyes. There were a few long moments of silence in which Pansy sat on the cold stone bench and watched for Neville's reaction. Slowly, she saw comprehension dawn on Neville's face as he looked up at her.

* * *

Neville's mind reeled back to a conversation he had had with his prefects a few days ago. As Pansy's meaning sunk in, it was beginning to make sense.

" _Alright, who has important updates for me?" Neville looked around the room at his prefects expectantly. They had had to put off their meetings for more than two months because of conflicting schedules and exams. The meeting flew by quickly and before he knew it he was dismissing his students, though several stayed behind._

" _Commander," a sixth year girl spoke up, "We have some updates on Professor Parkinson… if you would like to hear them."_

 _Neville had forgotten entirely that he had asked his students to keep an eye on her. He was about to brush it off and let them know they no longer needed to watch her… But he was curious._

" _Go on"_

" _Well, sir," a fifth year boy continued "I have reason to believe that she is dating Dean Thomas. He is a co worker of my brother's, and on the last Hogsmeade weekend he found me and asked me to give Professor Parkinson a present this friday on valentine's on his behalf."_

 _Neville couldn't help but be a tad surprised and taken aback at the revelation. Dean Thomas?_

" _We disagree, though, commander." It was the sixth year girl again. "Many of the girls and I have been watching her closely. We have seen signs that she is in love with somebody, but not Dean Thomas."_

 _Neville was more than a little amused at the gossip that was ensuing. Why of all things would they make note of Pansy's love life?_

" _And?" Neville encouraged._

" _And we all agree that she has feelings for you, sir."_

 _Neville couldn't stop his laughter. No, they were wrong. Far off the mark indeed. He let them know as much and told them they no longer needed to keep an eye on Parkinson. She seemed trustworthy enough._

He hadn't given it much more thought until now. In his drunkenness, things were beginning to make sense.

Pansy was trying to imply that Hannah was only dating him because of a love potion flower? That was ridiculous. There was no such thing. It made sense now. Those little teenage girls were right. She was jealous. She wanted Neville to end his relationship with Hannah and believe that she never loved him. It made perfect sense.

That was terrible, though! She was his friend! Why would she hurt him so much if she supposedly cared for him! It was sooo petty. It was so dramatic. … It was so much like the old Pansy. She had never changed, he could see that now.

He shakily got to his feet, his blood starting to boil with his new understanding.

"How could you." His voice held more of a venomous spit than it did a question. "You came here pretending to be different… pretending to be better." He stumbled over just a little, but caught himself before he fell. "But you're just jealous aren't you?" Malice seeping in between the venom. "The girls were right. You just fancy yourself in love with me. And you want to ruin my chances with Hannah so that what?" Neville leaned in close to her face as he spoke.

She was stunned. Pansy didn't know where he was coming from. And her face was turning red from anger, from embarrassment, from shock. Neville had never been this hateful to her. And she didn't know how to react.

"So _what_ Pansy? So that I would date _you_? You haven't changed one bit! You sit there all high and mighty with your librarian garb. _Acting_ like you've had a change of heart! Well you haven't." He clumsily placed a hand on her thigh, pushing up her skirt in an attempt to prove his point. "I am surprised you aren't hiding fishnets under your skirt!"

 _SLAP_

Hot tears had started to roll down Pansy's face at some point. She didn't remember when. She was angrier that she had ever remembered being. She was mortified.

He knew. Somehow he had found our about her feelings for him and he _knew_. And he used it against her like it was a weapon. He had tossed aside every stride they had made in friendship over the last year and spat it all back at her with a venom she didn't know he possessed. Beyond that, he had _invaded_ her space. He had groped up her thigh making fun of her. And he had admitted that he never believed that she could change.

It was as though the spell had been broken. Neville Longbottom was not a knight in shining armor at all. He was a jerk. And while a part of Pansy's brain pleaded with her that he was drunk beyond all reason, she knew better. _He_ made those decisions. _HE_ invaded her personal boundaries without her desire or consent.

She had made a promise to herself and to her therapist when she was 21. No more. She would no longer let _anyone_ treat her as Neville just had.

Everything within her reached a boiling point and when he had shoved her skirt up her thigh she slapped him as hard as she possibly could.

She hoped she broke skin.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Well, that was a disaster.**

 **Don't hate me. D:**

 **Please follow and favorite and review!**

 **So sorry for the long gap between chapters! Life has been a bit chaotic lately, and as I've been listening through the Lunar Chronicles audiobooks while I work (I've already read them 1-2 times) my mind doesn't want to process anything but Cresswell. (Guilty)**

 **If you're a fellow Cresswell shipper I suggest taking a gander at some of LoveLunarChon's stories. Excellent work!**


	14. In Which Shit Hits the Fan

Chapter 14

In Which Shit Hits the Fan

Dean looked up from his menu for the fourth time since deciding what he wanted. It had been two months since whatever had happened between Pansy and Neville had gone down, and Pansy still refused to talk about it.

She had showed up at his flat in the middle of the night on valentine's, only instead of being a romantic rondevu her face was red and puffy. She had been hyperventilating and it took the rest of the night for Dean to sit with her as her anxiety attack faded. He didn't mind. He really cared for Pansy, and was extremely glad that he could help her.

But even the next day Pansy wouldn't tell him. She had said that she told Neville a truth he didn't want to hear and that he reacted badly to it. It wasn't her place to share what she had told Neville.

Dean thought "reacted badly" must have been an understatement. Pansy was incredibly worked up when she had come to him. And when he had run into Neville the next day at the Leaky he had a purple hand-shaped-bruise on his cheek.

Dean didn't like jumping to conclusions. And he knew Pansy had a temper that could easily get away from her… He had been on the receiving end of it once or twice in the last four months. But she always _always_ came to herself when she had calmed down. She always forgave Dean for his screw up or apologized for her over reaction.

This had been different, though. Pansy refused to speak to Neville. She refused to even look at him. She had stopped taking her meals in the great hall for fear of making eye contact. And once, a couple of weeks ago, when Hannah and Neville had come into the same muggle restaurant that Dean had taken Pansy out to (Seriously, what were the odds of that?) Pansy had seriously began shaking. She insisted that she was fine and finished her dinner, but she looked like she was either going to throw up or pass out.

It had taken a toll on Dean's relationship with Neville. Dean wanted to hear out Neville's side of what went on, but when he had tried Neville immediately became defensive and accused Pansy of being a malicious witch. Only he didn't say witch. It was unlike Neville. It was unbecoming of the man Dean had always known as the beyond respectful gentleman. Dean tried to talk to Ginny about it, concern for his friend winning out over his anger on Pansy's behalf. Ginny was concerned as well, but she wasn't sure there was anything she could do about it.

"Do you know what you're getting?"

Pansy's grin broke Dean from his thoughts. _Damn_ , he didn't understand how this relationship had started. They had kinda just fallen in-step together, and started calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend without even doubting it. She was amazing, though. And she was beautiful. She had these dimples that would only appear in her brightest of smiles and Dean prided himself on being the only one who had brought out those dimples in years. (He knew this to be fact because Draco had told him so after the New Years party.)

"Yes, I think so." Dean gave her a wink and slid his foot along her calf under the table as he waved down their waiter. It had surprised him at first, that anything would make Pansy Parkinson blush. But he had learned, long gone was the Pansy of the war. His flirtations often left her cheeks tinged pink. Dean loved it.

"Yes, my lady here will have the cheese ravioli with meat sauce. And I will have the same."

Pansy shot him a furtive glare across the table.

"Would you like a wine to go with that, sir? We have a wide selection if you look on the back of your menu."

"No thank you. But we would love some ginger ale."

The waiter took their menus and walked back into the chaos of the full establishment. They were in the muggle restaurant again. Dean had offered that they didn't ever have to go back if she was concerned about running into Neville again. But ultimately they both really liked the atmosphere. They always asked for a booth in the back that gave them an intimate corner for conversation.

"What made you think I wanted the ravioli! You didn't even ask!" She threw the words at him sharply, but this was their reparte, he knew she was only teasing him. Dean hid his smirk behind a gulp of his water.

"Because, Parkinson," he replied, taking time in his answer. "No matter the italian restaurant we visit, _even_ when we aparated to _Italy_ that one weekend, you _always_ get the ravioli with meat sauce… Was I wrong?"

Her dimples peeking out under her blush was all the answer he needed. _Damn,_ who knew _adorable_ would ever be a word he associated with this woman.

Ginny Potter was furious.

She had tried for the _third_ time to speak with that blasted Neville Longbottom, and he had evaded her _again._ Dean's report hadn't made sense. But as little as Ginny trusted Pansy Parkinson she had certainly been earning her respect. And Neville was _not_ behaving like a innocent man. From what she was gathering he was barely seen outside of his greenhouses at school. He was avoiding eating in the great hall. And even Hannah had admitted to seeing very little of him over the last month when Ginny had bumped into her in Diagon the other day.

This was his last grace period.

The next time Ginny tried to visit Neville, she _would_. Even if it meant breaking into his greenhouse forcibly. The man was being unreasonable. He hadn't come to visit the twins since the week after they were born, and Neville adored babies. She had actually expected him to be around regularly for the first several months of their lives, and here they were at two months and their godfather had been to see them once.

Nope. She would give him until the weekend, then she would storm Hogwarts castle if she had to. (Though she was fairly certain McGonagall would be on her side.)

Neville lay in his cot, tucked away behind several rows of various flowers. He had specifically put a cot down in his greenhouses for nights when plants needed overnight care. But he had been using it more and more lately.

It had been three days.

69 hours and 40 minutes. Give or take a few seconds.

The exact time had been seared into his memory.

Neville closed his eyes and pushed his thumbs over his eyelids, as if the pressure would erase the reality of it. Or at least make the memory go away. _Make the frame by frame replay stop._

His heart hammered in his ears. Nausea making him feel as though the cot he was laying in was spinning. Bile rose up his throat before he could stop it, and he was lucky that he at least had reached an empty planter in time. The acid of it burned, and he had to shove his head out a window to keep from repeating the offense.

Shakespeare didn't help to calm him anymore. The repetitions that had once helped calm his thinking and bring focus now taunted him.

The cool fresh air helped to calm him, and as his heart rate began to normalize he felt the weight of the last several sleepless nights creep up on him. Wrapping the thin blanket around him, he crawled onto the small cot and slept.

The moment replayed itself in his dreams. This time Neville was outside of himself and watching the situation from above.

He had known that things were slowing down between him and Hannah, and he refused to consider the fact that he had stopped bringing her roses had anything to do with it. They were just busy, and they needed spontaneity. Since Neville had finished all of his chores at the castle, and had been avoiding eating in the great hall it seemed the perfect opportunity to surprise Hannah at the Leaky. Neville had lost track of time as usual, and it was getting late by the time he floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron.

Neville watched as he spun out of the fireplace like a bumbling fool. He swiped the dust off of his shoulders, and asked Tom where Hannah was, as she was not behind the bar as usual. Tom said she had called it an early night and was likely up in her flat above the pub.

He watched as he climbed the stairs, grimacing at the eagerness he saw in his own face. He was such a fool. Neville wanted to wake up as he approached the door to her flat. But he didn't.

Some cruel justice forced him to witness his own naive again. Neville gently opened the door without knocking. Hannah had given him a key, and assured him that we was welcome _any_ time. Looking at the situation from above and afar Neville vaguely remembered that she had given him the key and told him such after a particularly long time spent snogging by her flat door. He had given her the pearlescent roses that day, and she was wearing one tucked into her hair.

The sounds drove Neville's attention back to the scene. He had walked into the flat to find the living area in disarray. Pillows had been thrown off of the couch. Laundry was lying haphazardly around the room. Neville felt nauseous remembering how innocent his thoughts still were at the scene. _Especially_ with the noises that hadn't quite registered to him yet.

 _She must be sick to have called off work. She … she…_

Finally, he had registered a noise. A particularly sensual moan from the next room. From Hannah's bedroom. Neville watched as panic swept over his own face. He looked around the room with a new dread. A new understanding. There were two wands placed on the cabinet next to the door. Two bottles of ale on the coffee table. Hannah's bra was draped on the arm of the couch. And…

Blood rushed to Neville's face as more moans and a steady panting noise reached his ears.

Then, he saw them. A pair of black and yellow boxers. So much for hufflepuff loyalty.

Neville wanted to kill the bastard, and his wand was in his hand before he could stop himself. It wouldn't be hard to do anything, both of their wands were in a different room. But Neville's feet were frozen to the ground.

The truth of everything began to wash over him. And Neville cringed at watching the guilt, betrayal, anger, shame, and fury war within him in those moments.

Memories hit him in sudden succession as if finally letting him see what he had been trying not to look at for months. The roses. MacMillan's boasting the morning after the party. _Merlin_. Hannah being near his quarters all the way back at Christmas. How long had this been going on?

As he stood there staring at the wand in his hand three things began to happen at once. The little cuckoo clock in the kitchen began to sing it's chime, signalling that it was 10 in the evening. MacMillan started gasping and shouting Hannah's name as she gave out a cry. And Neville decided what he would do.

He burst through the partially open door to Hannah's room, causing Hannah to scream in alarm and Ernie to swear and try to roll over behind Hannah. The bastard wanted to use her as a shield. It didn't matter, Neville had them both in a body bind curse before they had time to give a full reaction. Hannah was frozen in time, looking at him with fear in her eyes. Shame, even. Neville was glad that her nakedness was mostly hidden from his view.

He went back into the other room and returned with Ernie's wand in his hand.

"You, MacMillan, are truly an idiot." His words came our deep, and heavy with anger. "I may have been blind, and a fool, even. But I am still a trained auror on the inside. And with you being the defense against the dark arts teacher I would have thought you would have known to _never_ leave your wand out of arm's reach."

He turned the long stick over in his hands before snapping it in half with his bare hands, red sparks crackling to the floor as the magic left the wood.

"You are lucky that I am one to abide by the law, otherwise you would likely learn the true meaning of castration tonight."

At that, Neville flicked his wand to release the two from the body bind and jumped through Hannah's bedroom window, apparating away before he hit the ground.

 **A/N: I'm sorry. :(**

 **Don't give up on me. I'm slow, but I have a plan and an outline.**


	15. In Which Ginny Yells and Neville Sobers

Chapter 15

In Which Ginny Yells.

Neville hid away behind the bushes as though that would keep him out of sight. He wasn't stupid, he knew Ginny would find him out. But the alcohol in his system encouraged him to cling to the small hope that she would look past him and be on her way.

He had no such luck.

"Nev, what are you doing?" Ginny marched straight toward where Neville was crouched. His eyes were bloodshot and he cowered further into his corner as she reached out for him.

"Leave me alone Gin."

"No." Neville saw the fire in her eyes, but her voice was surprisingly gentle. She had heard then. The whole bloody world probably knew. Merlin. How was he supposed to face the world?

"Neville Longbottom. I am going to count down from five and if you don't come out of that wretched corner you will regret it."

She was using her goddamn mother voice. Neville shrunk further into the corner and crossed his arms like a petulant child.

"Five."

Nothing.

"Four."

Neville stuck out his chin in defiance.

"Three."

Nothing.

"two."

Nothing.

"One."

Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it square in Neville's chest. "Aguamenti!" Water burst from the tip of her wand and soaked Neville. She didn't stop until the stench of alcohol had cleared from the greenhouse. She cast him dry and scoured him in further cleaning charms until there was no more evidence of his vomit or drunkenness.

"Here."

Ginny pulled a thermos out of her bag a poured coffee between two mugs. Neville grabbed his at it floated to him and took a long sip. He was furious with the way Ginny was treating him. But as he was sobering, and as his migraine was receding… and as he no longer had bile on his shirt, his old self appreciated a friend being here for him. Someone to force him to do what he absolutely did not want to do. He let out a long sigh and begrudgingly moved to sit behind his work desk.

Ginny sat on a bench across from him and pulled some warm sandwiches out of her bag. Neville quietly accepted his and ate it more quickly than he would have cared to. His hunger had caught up with him. He hadn't eaten in days.

"Alright," Ginny broke the comfortable silence once Neville had finished his coffee and food. "Your are fed and sober now. I have heard the general knowledge. The whore cheated on you, and you heroically broke things off and humiliated MacMillan in the process."

Neville tilted his head at this knowledge. That didn't sound as humiliating as he thought it would.

"So I want to know what really happened." Ginny leaned back in her chair and refilled their coffees with a flick of her wand.

"That actually sounds more accurate than not. It's just…"

"Yes, I figured." Ginny interrupted. "Hannah can't even deny that much. She's been receiving non-stop letters and howlers by the way. It seems your students may be hesitant to talk to you directly about it, but many of them are still chomping at the bit to defend their commander. However, there is so much more left unanswered, and I want the details Neville. I want to know how she cheated when she genuinely seemed in love with you. I want to know... I want to know what Parkinson has to do with any of this? What is that whole thing about?" She suddenly slammed her mug down, annoyed "And I want to know why the hell you haven't come to see the twins."

With that, Neville's walls came down. It seemed odd, but Ginny's tough love was exactly what Neville needed. What he hadn't realized he had been craving. He started talking and didn't stop for hours. He told her about the roses, about his blindness to the whole thing, about how Pansy had known and tried to warn him. He told her about how ashamed he was over how he had treated Pansy, but how he had no idea how to apologize. About how he felt so ashamed he didn't even think he deserved to see the twins. (Afterall, holding babies was a joy of Neville's. And he didn't feel like he deserved to be happy after everything he's done.) And with all of this going down right at the end of the school year he had no idea how to recover from any of it. He needed to get away. He needed to be able to process everything far from all of the people that were tethering him directly to his problems.

"Well, I feel like this may be obvious. It seems odd it hasn't struck you yet. But I can think of a stellar opportunity for you to get away for about two months, for you to be in a different country with mostly new people. Perhaps a few people you know. But I promise, Luna would only speak truth into your life in the most enchanting way, as she tends to do."

Neville looked up, why hadn't he thought of that already? She was right, it was the obvious answer.

"You are way past the deadline to go, but I am a favorite of Slughorn, and I do believe you have become one as well since the war. I don't think he would mind you showing up at the portkey to go tomorrow at all."

"Then I guess I have packing to do."

* * *

 _Dear Pansy,_

 _I am an idiot. I am an idiot. I am an idiot. For not trusting you. For allowing myself to insinuate anything about you while intoxicated. For not coming to you to apologize sooner. You have become something of a close friend of mine over the last year, and I am sorry that I have been such a git as to let my gryffindor pride get in the way of having a close friend when I have needed one the most._

 _I don't expect this letter to dissolve any issues between us, but I hope it can be a starting point in the healing of our friendship. I plan to be a teacher at Hogwarts for years to come, and after seeing what a wonderful professor you are I hope that you will be here for years upon years as well. Let's not face these coming years with strife and avoidance. I trust that you have much you wish to scream at my face, and many hexes you with to hurl at me. I probably deserve most of them, though you must forgive me for not wanting to face you in battle again. There never was much of a fight before you had me on my back. And as I am head of Gryffindor house I'd like to keep_ some _of my dignity in tact._

 _Will you please do me the honor of releasing your anger towards me,_ at me. _Do whatever you need to do to release it-short of hexing me. (please?) And when I get back from Africa will you do me the honor of sitting down to tea like old times? You can scream your bloody head off at me if you wish. Anything so long as we can begin the road of healing this friendship._

 _P.S. I will entirely understand if you do not wish to meet, and I will not pressure you do to anything you do not wish._

 _Neville Longbottom._

Pansy set down the letter that she had found shoved under her door when she awoke. She looked from the folded parchment to the ring on her left hand. The ring Dean Thomas had just placed there the night before.

* * *

 _End of Part One_

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I'M SORRY.**

 **I really didn't mean to take this long in pumping more out. In my defense life has been utter chaos. My sister got married. I launched my website and my blog will hopefully be soon to follow. I made my Cosplay for MegaCon. There was also a big video production I headed up in May. Oh, and I got fired from my job last week. So yeah. Chaos.**

 **Getting inspired and motivated to create content has been difficult, I'm not going to lie. If you feel the need to support me by all means drop a favorite and a comment! Also feel free to find me on instagram:**

 **hannah DOT theaveraveartist**

 **Let me know what you think so far! Part two will pick up at the end of summer/start of the next school year. What do you think of 'Nevsy'? Or is it 'Panville'? I don't know if they've earned a ship name yet - But honestly after Verbena and Lemongrass who could deprive them? But also what about 'Deansy'? ... Dare I say... 'Pean'?**


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